Long Lost
by justawaytolive
Summary: Smosh -Two strangers,Abigail Brooke and Anthony Padilla, have their worlds flipped when declared long-lost relatives. Through highs and lows,both learn that despite the time spent together, no force can break the invisible and invincible bond of siblings.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I'M BAAAAACK! Ha, you though you were rid of me...;) Haha hello again! If you don't know me from the other story I wrote (Without Hannah Here), hi there! Thanks for checking out my story! I'm super excited to be back on and writing again!**

**For those of you who DID read my past story, a quick heads up! This is NOT a sequel :( Unfortunately, I wrote a little of a sequel...and, well, long story short. It sucked. :) Like really, REALLY badly. So I decided to write something else that didn't horrendously suck. Only a little bit. ;)**

**Na, I'm just kidding! But I'm getting off track. Anyway, welcome to Long Lost, and I hope you enjoy it :D**

* * *

**Abigail's Point of View**

"Come on, Abigail!" Kristi begged while swiping her subway card through the sensor. It beeped back at her and declined to open. Kristi huffed and looked at me with pleading eyes.

I rolled my eyes and swiped my own card for her. The light turned green and the gate opened. "You really need to get a new card, Kris."

I swiped the card for myself after she crawled through the gate. "I know," She sighed she tossed the card back into her dance bag. The card landed next to her jazz and point shoes. "Anyway," Kristi continued as we proceeded for the 14th Avenue subway. "Abigail, it's the biggest party of the year! It won't be like the last time, I promise!"

"What, the one where you came home drunk?" I laughed and said a little too loud for her liking. She loudly shushed me and slapped my arm after quickly glancing around to make sure no one heard. When we reached the subway gate, Kristi angrily whispered, "That was one time, Abigail! I know it was stupid, but it was one time!"

"Oh, come on," I responded as a passing train's wind whipped my long black hair from my high pony tail into my eyes. "I know it was. Besides, no one heard."

"Really? Then who's that?" Kristi snapped while pointing to my right. I turned to see Tara, holding her nose up like always, wearing the dance academy sweatpants and jacket Kristi and I were. Her eyes darted towards me in their common squinted fashion, looked at me from head to toe, then huffed and turned away. I couldn't help but laugh and roll my eyes. When I looked back to Kristi, her eyes read 'What did I tell you?'

"She didn't hear!" I told her defensively, bumping her on the shoulder.

"If she did," Kristi snapped back. "I would be kicked out of the studio!"

"How do you know Tara would tell?" I whispered so Tara wouldn't hear. Kristi raised her eye brows sarcastically. _Guess she's right. _I merely shrugged and climbed onto the subway. Kristi followed closely behind, still on my tail about the party. "Stop beating around the bush." She demanded while poking at my side. "Who won't you come with me?"

I sighed. "Because it's the 15th of June."

"So?" She egged on.

"So," I continued. "It's been six months since the 15th of December. I have to check back with St. Mary's."

"Your old orphanage?" Kristi asked, confused. "Why do you have to go back there?"

I faced her. "Really?" I asked sarcastically. "How long have we lived together?"

"Six years, why?"

"So since we've been nine, you haven't noticed I've left to go back every six months?" Her returning blank stare told me she hadn't. "Wow," I laughed.

"Oh, so what!" Kristi cried, jokingly punching my side. "But why do you go back to St. Mary's? You're a ward of the state; you go to New York Dance Academy and live in their off-campus apartments. They should have been out of your hair a long time ago."

"People who are like me, under eighteen and going to an academy and school year round," I explained. "Have to go back every six months for a check up to see how you're doing. They do background checks to see what you've been up to, who've you been with, and so on and so forth. And the reason I can't just 'accidentally' forget THIS time is I have my blood test today, and you get in tons of trouble if you don't show up for that."

"Blood test? What do you mean?"

"There's a stupid law here in New York where orphaned kids like me have to get blood tests every six months to see if a blood match, or relative, can be found."

"Really?" Kristi said excitedly. "You could find a relative?"

"Hold your horses, girl," I half-grinned humorlessly. "Remember, I've been doing this since I was nine. Since then, I've taken this blood test every other year to keep the sample fresh. And every other year, they try to match it with another blood sample and nothing comes up. So either my long lost relative hasn't been to the police in six years, or he doesn't exist. My money's on the second one."

"Oh," Kristi said, obviously disappointed for me. "Sorry, Abs."

I punched her side playfully. "Oh, shut up, you know I don't care. Besides, I've got a pretty good life here in the Big Apple. My life revolves around dance, dance, and dance. Sleeping, eating, and studying are optional.

She laughed. "Yeah, that's true. Maybe we couldn't have that problem if we didn't have to dance six times a week for four hours…"

* * *

***sigh* I know, I know. Bo-ring! Introductions are usually so :D. It'll get better super fast, I promise. **

**Like next chapter. :D Teehee thanks for sticking through the (hopefully only!) boring part!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Anthony's Point of View**

"….So, I guess that's it for this week. Have you started editing next week's video?" Ian's voice seemed a million miles away. I hummed as a response like I had been for the past ten minutes in the car. Although I tried to pay attention, something pulled my eyes away from his and out the window, spying the passing Californian houses and people. Something didn't sit right in my stomach. Either the bean burrito I had for lunch was….bad, or that certain eerie feeling was settling in. I had spent the past minutes trying to figure out what it was, but apparently Ian finally noticed.

"Anthony, are you even listening?" Ian sighed, frustrated. "Or have I been talking to the car for the past ten minutes?"

I blushed, embarrassed. "The second one. Sorry about that."

"Never mind that," Ian quickly moved on. It was one of his better qualities. "Are you ok? You've seemed a little distant since this morning."

"I don't know why," I responded. "Something feels off. That or we should've gone to Taco Bell, not Jalapeñitos."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I returned a look that told otherwise. "Alright, alright, calm down, Grumpy. Just remember you can if you need to."

I silently thanked Ian as he pulled his tiny blue Subaru into our Californian home. He turned off the car and pressed the trunk button under the window. I opened my door and grabbed some plastic grocery bags as Ian finished texting on his phone. "Are you going to help me or just text Melanie while I do all the manual labor?" I asked jokingly.

Ian laughed along. "Nah, I'm done. Just making sure Melanie can make it to the shoot tomorrow. Can Kalel?"

"Yeah, she can," I replied as the garage door closed behind us. Ian helped me with groceries and walked inside our home first, both of us knocking off our flip-flops first. He continued his monologue of our future schedule as we walked inside, but suddenly he stopped in midsentence and step. Ian's hands opened out of shock; the bags fell from his hands and hit the ground with a thump.

"Ian?" I asked behind him. When he didn't answer, I walked in front of him to see what was going on. But when I did, my heart fell and I gasped.

The entire home was ransacked. Books from shelves were thrown on the floor. Our potted plant was smashed and the dirt covered tracks that lead to multiple rooms. Cabinets and closet doors were opened and their contents spewed on the floor. Our TV was missing, with former wires still sparking with electricity. We were robbed.

Without my knowledge, the bags fell from my hands as well. Simultaneously, Ian and slowly rotated our heads to each other, both meeting worried and shocked eyes. "Oh my god," Ian finally spoke. "They took…." He pointed to the missing TV set. "…and this…." He motioned towards the plant. "Oh my god." Staring into space, Ian began to walk around the house while he pulled his phone out of his pocket, slowly dialing 9-1-1.

I scanned the living room, each effect of the robbery stabbing me in the chest. Eventually my eyes reached the door. Next to the doorknob was a hole of shattered glass, just large enough for a fist to fit through. I strode towards the door when suddenly a sharp and sheering pain shot through my foot. I jumped backwards and turned my foot around to see tiny pieces of glass causing bleeding on my heel. When I brushed off the pieces of glass, droplets of red bleed onto my hand and dripped onto the floor. As my eyes followed it, I saw something that solved the mystery of the glass. On the floor were the remains of the glass along with a few drops of blood (not mine). _Bastard punched a hole through the glass, scraped his hand, unlocked the door, and turned the handle to let himself in. Son of a bitch!_

Cursing to myself in frustration, anger, and stress, I began to clean up the glass so no one else would cut themselves like me. I grabbed the broom and pan and started to sweep before Ian, who had reentered the room without my knowledge, stopped me. "Don't destroy any evidence, dude. The police are coming in a few minutes and will need anything they can get their hands on." His voice was stern and serious, something I didn't hear often. Only when really bad things occurred. And when Ian told me the total of stolen items, I knew this was really, really bad.

"At around 11:00 am, I think." I answered when Officer Rankings asked me when Ian and I left this morning. "We got back at around 1:00 pm or so."

"Screen door locked. All windows closed. Do you know how the thefts entered?"

I nodded vigorously as I escorted him out of the hallway and into the living room. I pointed towards the small broken window next to the door. The police officer let out a sigh. "Yeah, that's definitely it." He noticed the small drops of blood on the floor. He chuckled. "Well, that should make things a lot simpler."

As he leaned down to take the samples of the blood, I quickly remembered my cut incident. Once I told him what had happened, Officer Rankings asked for a sample of my blood so the difference could be told between my blood and that belonging to the criminal. I did as he told me and once the samples were collected, Officer Rankings told me that was all for now.

"What?" I asked in surprise. "The criminals took our TV, two of our four computers, and our fricking microwave and you stay here for twenty minutes?" I tried to control my anger, but after all that had happened it truly seemed like they didn't care. Like this happened everyday to them. In all honesty, I guess that was true, but in Ian's and my perspective, this was one of the only things in life that could not be made a joke out of.

"I'm afraid so, sir." Luckily, this guy kept his cool. Last thing that was needed was a furious cop. "Right now, all we can do is use the fingerprints and blood samples to compare to current records. We're pretty sure we'll catch the guy after that; robberies like this are usually common with former cons and such. You're insurance will cover this, correct?"

I sighed and rubbed my temples. "Yeah, most of it. But~"

"~I know, I know." He finished for me. "That's not the point, right?" I nodded. He put his hand on my shoulder. "Yeah, I figured. Don't worry, Mr. Padilla. You'll get through this. They always do."

With that, we shook hands. Officer Rankings called his team outside, and with a tip of his hat, they were gone.

Ian followed the last police officer to the living room and waved good-bye to them with me. Once the last car was out of site, he turned to me and half smile. Ian pulled me in for a hug and I returned it. "It could have been us," he said as we pulled away. "We could've been here when it happened. It could have been us." I nodded and slightly smiled as well. With one last sigh and deep breath, Ian left for his room to straighten it up, a start to the giant mess that faced us. I pulled out my phone and began to call Kalel to let her know the filming today is going to have to start much later. And to tell her why.


	3. Chapter 3

**Abigail's Point of View**

"Ok, my turn!" I whispered excitedly, continuing our game. I quickly glanced around the room to see Josh Cullen stretching in his point shoes. "Josh?" I nodded my heads toward him.

Kristi laughed. "Who can like a guy that does point?" She giggled and whispered, making sure to keep her voice down as we continued the Rating game. Although we knew full well you get in a lot of trouble for focusing on a game instead of actually stretching, it made the boring twenty minutes bearable. Kristi thought for a second while lifting her left leg all the way in the air, giving it a few tugs, then switching to the right. As I followed her, Kristi finally came with an answer. "Solely on looks, I'll give him a 7. He's not too bad looking, but I give him a 5 on personality, for the fact no straight guy does point."

We both laughed, apparently too loud. One of the dance instructors, Ms. Yow (my jazz and acro teacher) came over to us. Kristi and I both looked up at her, our smiles slightly fading and our cheeks turning red. Right as I was about to apologize for being unfocused, Ms. Yow said, "Abigail, can I have a word with you, please?"

_What for? _I questioned, but automatically responded, "Yes ma'am." I stood up, still in my jazz shoes and yoga booty shorts, and walked out of Studio 9. With one last glance to Kristi, she gave me a look asking what was up and I returned a shrug of the shoulders.

"In here, please," Ms. Yow said with a slight smile. _She's a New York Dance Academy teacher; she rarely smiles. Either they caught me doing something really stupid, or something even weirder is going on. _I obediently walked in and sat in the seat in front of her desk. "Is something wrong?" I asked with a shaky voice. _What does she think I did?_

"Oh nothing, dear!" She replied. "Sister Mary Lou just needed a few words with you, that's all!"

_Sister Mary Lou? One of the nuns from St. Mary's?_ I pondered as Sister Mary Lou came through the door behind me. _Why does someone from St. Mary need to see me? Do they think I didn't come to the stupid check up thing yesterday?_

"Ah, Abigail!" Sister Mary Lou walked in front of me and stood next to Ms. Yow. "It's great to see you once more!" She said in her specific '1-800' voice.

"It's great to see you, too." I replied with a very fake but convincing smile. "Ms. Yow said you needed a few words with me?"

"Yes!" She exclaimed. "I wanted to discuss last night's check up with you."

"Oh?" I responded with an innocent grin. _Oh crap. What did they find out…._

"Well," Sister Mary Lou paused and exchanged a big smile with Ms. Yow, who returned it in the same apparent fashion, but I could tell there was something she wasn't happy with. "When we took another blood sample from you yesterday, we didn't expect much to come up since you've been with us for so long. Somewhere in California there was a house robbery, God help those poor people's souls. When the police took a blood sample from the crime scene~" she shivered at the word 'blood'. I tried my absolute hardest not to roll my eyes. "~the owner's blood was also taken, just to make sure the criminal's blood was analyzed, not the owner's.

Like every procedure, the Sacramento police department saved the blood sample for future purposes. And it just so happened that this was the same day our orphanage sent out requests for blood matches!" Sister Mary Lou's face brightened with every word. She was practically jumping up and down from excitement.

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand." I said confused. "What does this have to do with me?"

Both Sister Mary Lou and Ms. Yow laughed at my statement, but Ms. Yow laughed drily. "Don't you understand, child? As much as a coincidence as it is, this man's blood sample matched yours! It's God's miracle for you, my dear! This man is miraculously your brother!"

My whole body fell numb. My eyes widened like an owl's and my jaw dropped. After fifteen years, FIFTEEN YEARS of being an orphan, I found out I have a brother. I began to sweat and as the world spun, making me feel suddenly ill. I took me a while to regain motor skills. "I…I have a brother?" I said in an almost in audible whisper.

"Yes!" She practically screamed. "Isn't this wonderful?"

I didn't know how to respond. My whole world just flipped upside-down, and I wasn't sure if it was for the worst or for the best. "I~I…"

"Oh, she's speechless!" Sister Mary Lou exclaimed. "How magnificent! What a life-changing day this must be for you!"

"Yeah," I replied with a flat tone. "What…What happens now?" I couldn't shake it off. "A brother…" I mumbled to myself. "I have a brother?" I laid my head onto my hand. I felt like I was going to faint.

"Now your adventure starts!" Sister Mary Lou said in a matter-of-factly tone. "St. Mary's has a plane ticket for you and an appointment waiting for you with a family counselor. Tomorrow around this time," She checked her watch, "You'll be in California with your new brother! How exciting!"

"Wait what?" I exclaimed, maybe a little too loud. "Tomorrow?"

"Of course! Don't you want to start your new life with him?" She cried, bouncing up and down with the biggest grin on her face. It was sickening how much more excited she was than me. "In California!" She exclaimed to herself, overjoyed.

"But," I started. "I~I'll be coming back, right?"

"Why would you? Like I said, you're going to start a new life with him! You'll be living in big Sacramento! Bye-bye, New York! Bye-bye, boring life!"

I stared at my feet. _No, I can't leave. _Slowly, my head began to shake back and forth. _My life is here. Everyone I know is here. They can't just pick me up and drop me somewhere else. They….they can't! _"No," I said simply, looking back up to the nun. "No."

The smile faded slightly on her face. "What?"

"No," I repeated. "I can't go. I won't."

Now, the smile was completely gone.

"This is my home. You can't just move me to another place, especially to a random person on the other side of the country!" My voice rang through the office. I found myself off the chair, which was lying, thrown down, on the floor. "I don't know him, you don't know him! How can we not know he's not some rapist or something?"

Sister Mary Lour gasped and gripped her chest while Ms. Yow simply looked down at her feet. "Abigail Ansley Brooke!" She vociferated, using my full name. "How dare you say that! He is a wonderful man who is willing to take you in as his own!"

"How do you know that? Have you ever met him? Has anyone?" By the look of her face, I could tell the answer was no. "So, you're going to force two strangers together that are apparent siblings after 15 years? Does THAT make any sense?"

Sister Mary Lou looked back at me with killing eyes, but didn't say anything. Finally, she stood up straight and stuck her nose in the air. "It has been decided, Abigail." She sighed, looking hurt. "You are leaving the JFK Airport at 1:35 PM tomorrow and that's final." As she stormed out the door, I could have sworn I heard a mumbled, 'Good riddance.'

I couldn't help but let tears form in my eyes. Desperate, I shot my head around to Ms. Yow. She looked as sad as I did. "I'm…I'm sorry, Abigail."

"Ms. Yow," I choked. "I don't want to leave."

"I don't want you to, either. You're one of my best dancers, and you've been to this studio longer than any student."

"I know, but it's more than that." I tried to persuade her. "This studio…New York….Dancing! This is my life! It can't possibly be morally right to rip me away from that. And that man. How can they force us together after so long? It's not right, it's not fair! Ms. Yow, please! There's got to be something you can do."

I felt a cool breeze on one side of my cheek. My hand felt a cool tear drip onto it. _I'm crying? I haven't cried ever since…..I don't even know when the last time was…_

With a hopeless look on my face, I looked back up to Ms. Yow. Her face read sadness, but more importantly, helplessness. "I….There's nothing I _can_ do, Abigail. Like Sister Mary Lou said, it's already been decided."

"This is my whole world, Ms. Yow. This academy, New York! I can't leave! I won't!"

Ms. Yow didn't respond. She simply looked down to her feet.

"Please," I begged in a whisper. "Please."

"You may have the rest of the day off, Abigail." Ms. Yow said in a mono-tone. "Go home and pack for tomorrow."

I didn't move. I stood there in her office with my mouth hung open. _I've come to this academy for nine years and that's all she has to say?_ Finally, I slowly turned and headed for the door.

"Abigail?" Ms. Yow called when I reached for the handle. "Take Kristi home with you."

When I turned back around, I saw Ms. Yow with a small smile on her face. She glanced up and down at me and continued. "I've known you since you were six, when you first started coming here. You've grown so much, Abigail. It's been an honor working with you, and I and the whole studio will miss you."

I tried to suppress a grin, but failed. Not once in the entire time I have been here have I received a compliment like that. Without saying a word, I did the same thing I had every time I'd left any ballet teachers' presence: with a simple and slow curtsey, I turned back to the door and left the office for the last time.

The high of the compliment faded instantaneously as the door clicked shut. With the tears rapidly falling down my face, I stormed down the hallway and into Studio 9.

"Hey, what was that~?" Kristi began to ask while I gripped her hand and thrust her up. "What the hell~?" She asked as I threw her bag into her hand and dragged her out of the building with me.

"Abigail, what the hell is going~? Wait, are you crying?" Kristi cried as I fast walked with my jazz shoes scraping the pavement. I let them scratch up as my head fell down. As hard as I tried, I couldn't hid from the big brave New York city (or my best friend) that my heart was broken.


	4. Chapter 4

**Anthony's Point of View**

I groaned at my watch. 12:19 pm; We had only been here for two hours and we've only finished four out of ten shoots done. This was going to be a LONG day...

"I know," my best friend Ian came up behind me and sighed. "I'm already done, too. This is the sketchiest place we've shot at. I just want to finish and go home, but it seems like we'll be here forever."

It was. Our crew drove out of our small and safe suburban neighborhood outside of Sacramento to south side of LA. Dogs barked constantly, yelling and cursing came from every alley way, and every building looked unoccupied, and I guessed that was the plan. I knew people were in there, but something told me (maybe the broken windows and deserted streets) these people wanted it to look abandoned.

Perfect for our shot. Not for me.

"Let's just get this done," I motioned, finishing off the water bottle. At the sound of another dog barking, followed by a chorus of twenty, I added, "And fast."

Ian nodded and patted me n the back as we walked back to the rest of the crew in our Zelda and Link costumes, me being Zelda. _I hope no one sees me in this_, I prayed, _I don't even want to know how many guys want to kick my ass for wearing this._

But as I walked away from the concessions' table, my iPhone rang. I went back to see an unknown number pop onto the phone. I simply ignored it, thinking it was probably a wrong number. But a few moments after I clicked 'ignore', it called again. This time I picked up. "Um, hello?" I said, awkwardly.

"Hello!" a peppy, and almost annoying, voice called through the speaker. "Is this Anthony Padilla?"

_So I guess they were trying to reach me_. "Yes?" It came out as more of a question. I cleared out my throat. "Can I help you?"

"I sure hope so!" the women jeered. _Wow she's getting annoying fast..."_I'm calling from the East Coast Missing and Exploited Children service."

_What the hell? _"Oh," I mumbled after getting over the confusion. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"Well, over here in the big Apple we have a little girl named Abigail who-"

_Were these people really asking me to adopt? Really, are you that desperate? _I suppressed a laugh. "Um, no thank you. I'm not interested in adoption."

She laughed, which was more of a high pitched scream. I pulled the phone away from my ear in pain. "No, silly! Due to recent tests and matching, we've found a blood relation between you and Ms. Abigail. You're siblings!"

My face scrunched in co fusion. _What? Ok this women's crazy…_

Then the epiphany came. _Well, this was the worst prank ever_.

"Alright, who is this?" I asked with a cooperative laugh. "Michelle? Yeah, this is probably this worst prank in the entire world. Bye, Michelle."

But as I pulled the phone away from my ear, I heard, "Wait, wait!"

"What? I get the joke, I get the joke. Great job, whatever!"

"My name isn't Michelle," the women claimed. Her cheery voice disappeared. "It's Emily, and I do work with East Coast Missing and Exploited Children service."

The smile slowly fell from my face. "Wait, what?" I glanced around to see Ian motioning me to come over to the shot, but I waved him off. He scrunched his eyes and raised his hands questioningly. I ignored him and turned back around.

"Abigail Brooke is a fifteen year old at St. Mary's Orphanage. Due to recent blood tests, one's compared to hers and yours, we found a match between you both."

I couldn't find words.

She sighed, like she hears this every day. "When you gave a blood sample to the cop the day your house was robbed, your sample was kept for future references in the system. On the same day here in New York, all orphanages were required to send in blood relation test. The two samples were compared and a relationship was found. Although the chances were a million to one, it happened."

"No." I denied, flabbergasted. "No, it's not possible. How could we possible be related?"

"Do you know who your mother was?"

This caught me by surprise. "Well no, not really." I said. "She left my dad and me when I was ten."

"What we can deduce is when she left, she was..." The lady cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable. "Pregnant. With another man's child."

Immediately, my throat dried. I've hated her my whole life for leaving me and my dad, but now? Knowing she cheated (not just cheated, had sex with another man!) made me want to…just want to~!

"~We can infer that the mother left baby Abigail on the footsteps of St. Mary's Orphanage as a new born baby. What we've learned is a mother who gives up a child is either one of three things: unable to care for the child, which is rarely the case, mentally ill, or involved in a business including crack cocaine or something. Effects on the child could trace back to the mother, getting her in trouble for usage. It's usually the third one, which is most likely this case. Unfortunately, we can also infer that her mother, who was been missing since 15 years ago, is...not with us anymore. Her name was~"

"~Cheyenne Wess." I'd heard the drug stories from my dad when I was a kid. He would be on the phone with the NYPD all night because she had gotten into some sort of trouble. My dad didn't think I could hear the conversations.

It must be true.

I dropped my phone right out of my hand. It fell to the ground with a thump. It took me a while to realize what I had done. Quickly, I picked the phone back up. As I stood up, Ian was there, asking me what was going on. I shushed him and went back to the phone. He rolled his eyes. _If only he knew…_

"What...what happens now?" I breathed.

"Well, now the family counselors here at WCMEC set a meeting. We see what we can work out between you two. When a child is put into an orphanage an infant, the first blood relation found is automatically made the legal guardian."

"Wait, what?" Now, I was yelling and Ian was about to pull the phone from my hands. I slapped him away, but he kept trying to get it away from me.

"Yes, sir. We will contact you in a couple of days for a meeting." Her operator voice was complete gone. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Padilla." The last thing I heard was a blank dial tone.

Slowly, I brought the phone from my ear. I felt light headed and floaty feeling. As Ian spun me around, I found he had been yelling at me, but I hadn't heard a word.

"Anthony!" he cried in my face. I couldn't tell if he was mad or worried. "Tell me right now! What is going on?"

My face felt numb and my feet slipped from under me. My hands flew to Ian's shoulders and he grabbed my forearms to steady me. "I...I have a sister." For the final time, my knees gave out and I tumbled toward Ian's torso. I could barely hear him yell, "Whoa-whoa-whoa! Hey, I need some help over here! Anthony, can you-?"

But that's all I heard as my lights went out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Abigail's Point of View**

Kristi leaned down and friendly kissed my forehead. She laid her head down on my tear-stained face. "I love you, Abigail."

I tried to smile but couldn't. "I love you too."

"No homo." Kristi added with a slight smile. This time I couldn't help but half smile. "You're so stupid." I teased as I sniffed.

"You bet. " She lifted up her head and gripped my shoulders. "Now, you. Get up."  
I covered my face and groaned in response. Despite this, Kristi thrust my shoulders upwards and made me sit up. We sat there together in silence for a while; the same way we had been for the past two hours.

Finally she threw her hands down on the black leather coach in surrendering way and headed over to the freezer. Out of it, Kristi pulled our hidden emergency ice cream. Being in the east coast's most prestigious dance academy, along with making their junior company, added up to everyone in our group put on pretty strict diets. But a little emergency chocolate was nothing to hurt anyone.

As she walked back to the couch she handed me a spoon and threw the container. "Aw, your emergency double chocolate?" I sniffed. "You must really love me."

"I do," She said as she sat next to me. We ate the ice cream ravenously, throwing our good dancer diet streak into the wind.

"I just don't want to leave." I complained for what felt like the millionth time.

"I know," Kristi responded all the same. " I don't want you to."

"They can't just make me, can they?"

"Unfortunately, they can." Kristi said bluntly. That's one of the best things (and worst) about her; she never beat around the bush.

As the bottom of the ice cream container became noticeable, I decided we had had enough. After prying the container from her little hands, I placed it back into the freezer. The soft mull of the television was heard through our half-packed apartment. My belongings were scattered in three unlabeled boxes and the collage on my wall of pictures and train tickets left a shadow where it used to lay. All that was left was Kristi's things in the bathroom, living room, and half kitchen. At the small table, I plopped back down as if standing for three seconds made me tired. My head fell into the palms of my hands and I let out a sputtered sigh, the kind that comes after you've finished a long period of crying. "How can I just be sent across the entire country to live with this Anthony guy? He's like twenty-five; I doubt he would want a fifteen year old living with him. Why~?"

Kristi suddenly stopped furiously licking the remains of the ice cream off her spoon. "Wait, what did you say?" she interrupted.

"He's like twenty-five?"

"No, no. Before that. You said 'Anthony'?"

I nodded oblivious to what she was getting at. "Yeah, that's his name. What about it?"

"Well, where do you go to legally stalk and find out true facts about random strangers?" Kristi asked, bouncing with a sudden epiphany. When I shrugged with doubt, she ran off to her bedroom, leaving me awkwardly sitting in our crowded kitchen. When she came back, she carried her Mac laptop. I should have guessed Kristi would turn to the internet for an answer.

With the quickness of the Mac to reboot, Kristi was surfing the Internet in a matter of seconds. After interrogating me for his full name, Kristi clicked to the web address bar and messily typed 'Google' as fast as she possibly could. Once fixing her messy lettering with the annoying autocorrect, the computer finally made it to Google. Kristi began to type 'Anthony Padilla' into the search bar. However, it only took 'An~' for his name to pop up. Immediately, Kristi and I spun to see each other's reaction. _What the hell? _ I jumped over her and clicked 'search'.

14 million hits. _Ok, either Anthony Padilla is a really popular name, or Anthony Padilla is really popular._

And as I scrolled down endless pages of fan girls blogging about this man, I figured it was the second one. In every article, one word caught my attention ~ 'Smosh', whatever the hell that was. Eventually the numerous links lead me to a YouTube channel called Smosh. When I clicked on it, it looks much more…professional than all the others. It had a specific layout and had links flashing all around the page.

"In about one second, you will hear a man say 'shut up'. SHUT UP!"

Confused, I scrolled up to see a video began to autoplay. Out of curiosity, I let the video run. On the screen appeared a man with what appeared to be a Justin Bieber haircut, failing to correctly tie a tie. He stood about 6 feet tall and had crystal blue eyes. _That's him?_ I thought, _We don't look similar at all. And his last names Padilla? But he doesn't look Hispanic…_

But as another man entered, reality struck me like a ton of bricks.

This man was slightly taller with black hair angled to the side. He had dark brown puppy dog eyes. His skin was a slight olive color due to his Hispanic backgrounds while his eyes were slightly chinked to the sides showing his Asian heritage.

Just like mine.

Everything was so similar. His long black hair to my long black hair, his chocolate brown eyes to mine, and his olive skin. I looked just like him, from the chilly eyes to the lanky body. I looked just like him...or he looked just like me.

The video continued, but I paid no attention to it. Neither did Kristi, who sat next to me in awe with her mouth mimicking mine, hung wide open. When the video ended, we sat in silence for at least thirty seconds. I broke the ice with "Well, at least we know I'm not being punk'd."

"Are you kidding me, Abigail?" Kristi cried, throwing her hands up to the air and onto the top of her red hair. "He looks exactly like you, but as a 25 year old man!"

"It's insane, I know." I sighed, rubbing my temples and leaning back into my chair. "It's absolutely crazy."

"Well, let's see what else we can find on him." Kristi retook the computer I overthrew and went back to Google search.

"Fan fiction?" I questioned aloud as multiple pages of it popped up with his name.

"It's when someone takes real people from movies, books, or I guess YouTube and writes a story with them in it," Kristi answered. "Apparently, this Smosh thing is bigger than I thought."

"Click on one!" I exclaimed in curiosity. "I wanna see what these girls think of them."

"Ok, but remember," she warned as the page loaded. "These girls who write it tend to ...exaggerate a lot."

I blew off what she said and began reading.

"Ian was kneeling in the bathtub, a towel under his knees and another under his hands, his head turned as he craned his neck to watch Anthony working." _...Ok, this is a little weird._

I skimmed down to near the bottom of the story, though every word I saw tried to convince me to leave immediately.

"The bed sunk down as Anthony knelt behind Ian, hands squeezing the boy's hips. Anthony leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Ian's entrance, smiling when he heard the moan. His mouth opened, tongue slipping out, licking in broad, even strokes, knowing it would do nothing but tease Ian, torturing him. And, truthfully, it was all Ian could do to keep from pressing his ass back on Anthony's face while begging 'more more more'."*

Simultaneously, Kristi and I screamed and she slammed the computer screen down with a bang. I covered my burned eyes with my hands and run ingot he living room. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?"

I face planted into the couch with groans of agony and scarring. "OH DEAR GOD! JESUS CHRIST!"

Kristi could help but let out a laugh as she trudged back into the living room. "Well, I'm mentally scarred."

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" I continued to scream through the red pillow. "Mentally scarred? MENTALLY SCARRED? I have to live with those sickos!"

"Oh, calm down," She complained. Once she caught a glance from my disgusted and appalled face that read, _calm down, CALM DOWN? _She continued with her hands in the air, defensively. "Like I said, these girls who write fan fiction exaggerate...A lot! I highly doubt it is anything close to that.

That did help me calm down; the aftertaste in my mouth was unbearable. "So do you think they're~?"

"~Gay? Oh yeah,"** Kristi finished. "It's a shame, really. They're both awfully cute!" She said with a wink.

"Hey!" I cried defensively while throwing the pillow at her. "He's my brother...now! Wow, this is going to take some getting used to..."

Kristi laughed. "You leaving is going to take some getting used to. Ew! What if I have to room with Tara now? She complained about her roommate to the dean yesterday."

I playfully punched her in the arm. "Replacing me already? I don't think so! I'll be back, Kristi. Just you wait."

Kristi forced a small smile. Although she didn't say anything, I knew this was killing her even more than it was me.

"Hey," I whispered as I pulled her into a hug. "Things will work out. We'll figure this out, I promise. In a month, I'll be back here, bothering you as much as I usually do."

This time she truly did smile. "Alright, I believe you." She cooed. Suddenly, her face brightened. "You know what? We're skipping class tomorrow. You need one finally sniff of New York before you leave!"

"I'm teaching tomorrow." I sighed. It was a fun job and it paid pretty well, but it took up so much of my time, and talk about bad timing.

Dramatically, Kristi plopped herself onto the couch and threw a small fit like a three year-old. _Same old Kristi._ "Can't just skip one day? Please, for me?"

I laughed. I hear that phrase about ten times a day_. _"I'll see what I can do." I sighed.

Like a child, Kristi tossed her hands in the air and screamed, "Yaaaaaaaay!" I chuckled but quickly shussed her. Our neighbors already hate us.

"If you thing about it," Kristi mentioned as she skipped back to the fridge and helped herself to more ice cream. Despite my stern glance, she continued to break the code of conduct. Once she finished her insane spoonful of overflowing ice cream, Kristi continued. "This would probably be the biggest thing you've ever done. Yeah, a solo at the national dance competition this year was pretty cool, but come on! A long lost brother? It's like something out of a book!"

I grinned and left the room with her words stuck in my head. _She's righ_t, I thought. _It sounds like a movie, not my life. Since when did crappy Lifetime movies become realistic?_

I didn't know, but all I knew was the next few days were going to be more hectic than I had ever imagined my life could be. And I'm an orphan living in New York City, dancing at the most prominent dance academy in the east coast. With that, you have to give yourself some leeway for the strange.

* * *

***~NOT MY WRITING! I borrowed this from another fanficiton. Some of you may have recognized it as the Smosh Milk Fanfiction. As I have been recently informed, this fanfic was originally a Ryden and was written by Druscilla Ryan**

****~NO, THIS IS NOT AN IANTHONY! Haha, yeah there's a reason why I made it this way, but no, it is not that type of fanfiction. (You sick, sick people who were looking for Milk...haha jk)**

**Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Anthony's Point of View**

11:47am_. Guess I'd better wake up..._

Just another Smosh editing day. We finished most of the filming yesterday, thank god.

But wait. If we're editing today, that must mean we finished ALL of the filming. What about the final couple of shoots? Why can't I remember them? Did I get drunk last night or something?

Groggily, I sat up, but found I had a massive headache. Naturally, my hand flew to it for comfort. My hand swiped a gigantic bump on the top of my skull. _What the hell is that fr~?_

"~And that's the last time I drag you off another set."

Ian's voice startled me. My eyes focused as I saw him leaning over and picking clothes up off my floor.

"Ian?" I grumbled, confused. "What do you mean drag me off a set?" As he continued to pick up clothes, I added, "And how long have you been in here? Were you watching me sleep?"

"Anthony," Ian sighed as he threw a pillow that was on the floor at my face. "Of course not, dumbass. I was just making sure you were okay when I found a tornado came through your room." His sarcastic comment proved correct when I glanced around the room to see clothes and books were scattered everywhere, making it almost impossible to move around the room.

"Oh," I mumbled then blushed. "Sorry, didn't mean to accuse you or anything."

"Whatever, that's not the point. The point is, like I said, that's the last time I drag your fat ass off a set." By my confused look, he understood I had no idea what he was talking about. "You passed out, dude."

"What?" I cried and jolted up. I tossed my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, brushing myself off. I began to walk away casually when a heavy feeling in my chest and a light feeling flooded over me like pouring water. My leg began to give out and I collapsed to the ground. That is, until Ian caught me. "Nice try, buddy." He chuckled and helped me back to the bed.

Ian forced my head onto the pillow, but I propped up with my elbows. "Why did I pass out?"

Ian's face turned stiff. He looked guilty, like he had hoped I remembered so he didn't have to say anything. "Um," he mumbled awkwardly. "Maybe this will help you remember." Ian tossed me my phone with the call page pulled up. With a scrunched face, I scrolled through the call log.

"Why would you show me this? What does this have to do with~?" I answered my own question when my eye caught a number that sparked a sea of memories. The unknown number calling twice; the annoying lady from the ECMEC; the news about my mother.

And my sister.

"Oh my god," I whispered. "I remember."

"Yeah," Ian sighed as he sat at my feet on the bed. "Don't worry. I know, too. The people from the ECMEC called you again and I answered it. They told me everything. Dude, this is crazy. You have a sister."

My head pounded even more. "I know, I know. To think after so long, thanks to my bitch of a mother, I have a sister. They're sending her to come live with us! I mean, we have a spare bedroom and enough money to support another person, but to be forced together like this? To pick that poor girl up out of her home to move all the way across the United States? It just isn't fair to either of us."

Ian patted my foot in comfort and stood up, heading for the door. "I know, dude. We're just going to have to take this one day at a time. Starting today, I guess."

Although I didn't understand what he meant with his last statement, I moved on and stopped him. "Hang on, why did the ECMEC call today?"

"Oh! They called because~" Ian checked a note inside his pocket. "~today at 7:15 pm, there will be a conference with a family counselor at the West Coast Missing and Exploited Children center in South Natomas."

I sighed and slowly stood up. "Alright," I began to pull on some jeans. "You coming with me?"

"Yeah, sure," Ian left the room, but quickly stuck his head back in. "Oh, and the girl, Abigail, will be there, too."

"WAIT, WHAT?" The shock caused me to lose my balance. I tripped on the jeans and fell to the floor with a thump.

Ian stuck his head back in and simply replied, "Yeah, she is. We'll leave at around 6:45, ok?" His voice became quieter as he walked down the hallway. "I promise you it won't be THAT bad."

"Yeah, yeah." I rubbed my head that banged against the side of my computer desk when I fell. _This is just NOT my week, is it?_


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey! I know, I know. Super late chapter! Sorry about that! Truth is, I fixed this up last night, but when I reread it, I just wasn't feeling it. Didn't like anything about it, so I decided to wait until tonight to see what to do. **

**First off, the original chapter was normal length, but nothing happened and I didn't want it to be just a boring, information chapter, just like the past one have been. Ttherefore I decided to combine two chapters to make a mega-long one that wasn't a complete snore. By the way, thanks for sticking with me through the past boring ones. I know, really dumb and slow and I cross my heart I've been trying my best to make it fast, but unfortunelty it seemed to drag. That's why I'm happy to say *ta-da!* the snooze chapters have finally come to an end! From now on, I promise it will be _at least _slightly interesting. Haha love you guys and hope you enjoy the SUPER FREAKING LONG CHAPTER! **

* * *

**Abigail's Point of View**

"Flight 1680 to Sacramento is now boarding zones 5-7. Thank you." The peppy and obnoxious flight attendants voice rang throughout the terminal like a death march. I slowly faced Kristi, who had my carry-on bad in her hand and a forced happy look on her face. "You're going to have so much fun, Abby." She pulled me into a big hug that almost crushed my ribs, but I didn't care. When thinking it was the last time I would ever hug her, it made me want to hug her more.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Kris," I held back the final round of tears and kissed her cheek. "Do well, okay? Stop slacking off in class or I'll send Tara to kick your ass."

She laughed. "I will if you behave yourself, missy. At least try to be good?"

I grinned a mischievous smile. "Nope, I will not."

"Final boarding for zones 5-7."

I gave one final sigh and hug. "I'll call you, okay?"

"Alright, but how?" She questioned. "You don't have a phone."

"I'll figure something out." I winked and took the bag from her hand.

"What did I say about behaving?" She cried but smiled. Kristi pecked me on the cheek. "Bye, Abby."

"See you, Kristi." With one last squeeze of the hand, I truly separated from my best friend for the first time in six years. I solemnly gave my ticket to the falsely grinning attendant. "Have a fantastic flight!" I wanted to smack that cheesy smile right off of her face.

While walking into the tunnel to the plane, I took one last glance back to Kristi, who waved with a half smile and swimming eyes. I returned it right back to her.

_What if we're stuck together and he blames me for it? _Once I sat in my seat, worrisome thoughts began to fill my head. _What if he sees me once and already HATES me? Come on, Anthony! It wasn't my fault, don't blame me, I hate it too!_

The dwelling made me grow tired. I leaned my cheek on my hand and rubbed my temples. _This was going to be a LONG flight…_

* * *

But I was wrong. I shook awake as a disrespectful three year-old kicked my seat with vigor. I rubbed my dry, sleepy eyes and stretched, feeling better and renewed. That is, until the pilot mentioned we needed to fasten our seat belts for landing and remembered where I was. _Oh, shit we're here. I slept through the entire flight._

My heart did a somersault as the words began to pour back into my head. But I didn't have time to dwell for it was my time two gather my things and head out the terminal. And that whatever this airport was, it was ten times as gorgeous as JFK.

The high ceilings and bright lighted windows drew my eyes. I was like being in a different world. The open space was not as terribly hot as I thought it was going to be, being California and all. The scenery was comfortable and clean feeling. Although I was just in a building, the air smelling and felt cleaner, almost overwhelmingly so. And I hated myself for enjoying something here but...I liked it.

I shook the good feelings away. _I was supposed to be pissed, right? Totally completely self-pitied?_ I held my head back up and put on a frown. I leaned down to tighten my sandal heals (I grumbled how I was forced to dress formally) and headed down the big main hallway. _Where the hell do I even go? Baggage claim first, I guess..._

So I did. After waiting countless minutes for my suitcase, I located it on the belt. Ileaned over to retrieve it when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Huh?"

I turned around to see a lady in a light blue turtle neck and a kaki skirt. She wore a name tag that read 'Charlotte, WCMEC'. She held out her hand and I shook it, slightly dubious. "My name is Charlotte. I work with the West Coast Missing and Exploited Children. You must be Abigail Ansley."

"Um, yeah." I returned a smile that covered the boiling hate bubbling inside me.

"Well, now that you have your bag, let's head out!" Charlotte cries and grabbed my hand. I began to pull away before I stopped myself. This wasn't the time to mention I was not fond of strangers.

The car ride to the WCMEC building was nothing but Charlotte talking and me pretending to listen. "Oh, what a wonderful experience this will be for you, Abigail! A new family, a new home, a new life! You must be so excited! Aren't you?"

I snorted, "No." Right afterwards, I cringed. Yes, I was mad as hell, but the last thing I wanted to do was be a total bitch to someone I just met. Someone who had to drive an hour out of her way to pick my whiny ass up and drive an hour back. I opened my mouth to quickly apologize, but when I looked over to her, Charlotte simply sighed and kept her eyes on the road. I closed my mouth and continued to look out the window, feeling worse than I already did.

We pulled up to the building an awkward hour later. It was a couple stories high, beige-colored, and read WCMEC on the front. It was . . . normal looking. No murder cries of hell. Not even screaming kids, just a quiet few at about 10 years that held onto the hands of their workers with either gigantic smiles (my guess those were the newly found children) or small nervous, but excited ones. And then there was me, a grumpy fifteen year-old New Yorker, the odd man out.

Charlotte escorted me through the sliding doors and into the elevator. It shot up to the seventh floor and opened with a _ding-dong!_ The grey-carpeted corridors led to Room 307. She opened the door for me and gingerly I ventured inside. But when Charlotte didn't follow, I turned to see her leave. When she didn't hear the door close, she spun around as well.

"You're…not coming?" I asked quietly. I may have been quite rude to her, but she was the only person I knew in this state. Even though I just met her, it was much easier to be with someone I knew.

"I've got to go, sweetheart. Take care." She smiled at me, easily overlooking what I had said before. Before she began to walk away, I called her and started to apologize for what I said, but Charlotte stopped me in mid-sentence.

"Don't worry about it," She grinned wildly and hugged my tightly. I stiffened, but quickly forced myself to relax. "Have fun." Charlotte whispered in my ear, then disappeared out of site.

With a little nudge, my feet walked inside the large tiled room. In the far corner, I saw a man at a desk talking to someone, but I couldn't see who. Two large leather chairs blocked my view of their heads. When I was halfway through the room, my heeled shoes created an echo that caught the attention of the man at the desk. "Ah, speak of the devil! Here she is now! Mr. Padilla, Mr. Hecox," he motioned toward me. "This is Ms. Abigail Ansley Brooke."

The two unknown figures stood up and took a final glance to each other. The one on the left with brown hair nodded to the other, reassuring him. The other, who had black hair, gulped and turned to me.

* * *

**Anthony's Point of View**

I looked over to Ian, whose eyes counted to three, and on three, I gulped and slowly spun around to see my sister. And I couldn't help but gasp.

She had very long, raven black hair that was curled at the bottom, covering the back of her polka dot blue dress. She was short, but thin and muscular. Her eyes were a similar poo-pooed brown. With everything combined, including the olive skin tone we shared, she looked exactly like me.

Like a cloud, I floated over to her with Ian on my side. Abigail stood their returning my shocked expression. I reached two feet from her when my shoes stopped in their tracks. All of us stood there in an awkward silence. In at least twenty seconds, it was broken by Ian. "Hey!" He cried in his normal peppy self. He spread open his arms for a gigantic hug. He leaned in (or down, Abigail was really short!) and hugged her while introducing himself. She stiffened, by forced herself to return the hug and say it was nice to meet him. _I guess she doesn't hug a lot…_

Now it was my turn. I met her eyes and we simultaneously gasped. Our eyes…matched. Perfectly. We scanned each other silently. I analyzed every part of her. What made my heart sadden was when I looked at her, I saw my mom.

"Um, hi." I cleared my throat. Awkwardly, I stuck out my hand. _Well, she doesn't like hugs…_

"Hi," She replied, breathlessly. After taking my hand, she didn't shake it. We just stared amazed into each other's eyes.

I was still trying to convince myself at that point all of this was just a crazy dream. But there the proof was, right in front of my eyes.

"So," the man said, clapping his hands together. Abigail and I jumped to attention. "Let's get this started, shall we?"

We sat down in the chairs in front of the man's desk. He took a deep breath to start what I thought was a long lecture on how lucky all of us were to be in this situation. T hat was the last thing I wanted, and it was the opposite way on how I felt. Did Abigail feel the same way too?

What happened next was the effect of my past thinking. Apparently, Dr. Snider could read my thoughts on my face. "Look," he began, rubbing his temples. "I'm not going to sit here and tell all of you this is a miracle and we should all be thankful for what has happened."

_...Oh..._

"I know this sucks, for all of you. I'm sure Ms. Abigail wants to move back to New York," I looked over to Abigail, who was blushing as if embarrassed. "And I'm sure you too want to move on to your regular lives, right?" Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ian nodding with me. "Yeah, I know. But right now, this is how it is going to be. Cheyenne Wes's, your mother, didn't leave a will. According to the missing and exploited children guidelines, when a child's parent has left no specify to where the child should go, the closest family member would gain custody. And since a blood relation was found between you and Ms. Abigail, Mr. Padilla, that makes you the closest family member."

"And I'm the only match?" I asked without thinking. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Abigail rolling her eyes, like she expected me to say something like that. I quickly added, "I mean, in the probability of me being the only one is small" when I realized what I said could be taken the wrong way.

"So far, yes, " He disagreed. "We will keep looking, but right now you are the closet we've found. For right now, you two are stuck with each other, I'm afraid."

Simultaneously, I glanced over to Abigail and she did the same to me. We checked each other up and down, seemingly judging one another. Eventually, I turned back to Mr. Samuels. "So, what happens now?"

He sighed and his eyes grew. "Now, I guess we get started."

Mr. Samuels told me how the next few weeks were going to go. I was to visit Abigail everyday here at the WCMEC, we'd hang out, and do the same thing the next day. Eventually, she was to move in with Ian and me, but based on how awkward it was now, I'm not sure how fast THAT was going to happen.

"…And that's it." Mr. Samuels concluded. "As complicated as the situation is, the solution is that simple. When we find another relationship, we'll contact you and possibly start the process all over again."

"I'm not a pawn, Mr. Samuels."

This was the first time Abigail said anything the entire meeting. All eyes shot to her as she spoke; her head was looking down and she twiddled her fingers.

"Ms. Brooke?"

Abigail looked back up and met Mr. Samuel's eyes. "I'm sorry, but I'm not a pawn. It's not fair that you just move me around to every surviving relative I have, just because the person I'm with right now doesn't want me."

I opened my mouth to object, but something stopped me. The realist side of me told me to not say anything, because what Abigail said was completely true. I guess I didn't really want her.

Mr. Samuel rubbed his beard in thought. "Very well, Ms. Abigail. What do you propose we do instead?"

"If weeks go by and our feelings for each other do not improve," Abigail said. _Oh good, _I thought in relief. _So she doesn't like me back. That makes ME feel slightly less terrible. _"And another blood relation is found and that man or women doesn't want me in their custody, we should all go back to the way it was before all this happened. I'd go back to New York and Ian, Anthony, and the other relative would continue their normal lives here."

Mr. Samuels seemed mildly impressed with her statement. "Very well. Any objections, Mr. Padilla?"

To be honest, I was slightly speechless. For a fifteen year old, she's pretty smart. "Um, yeah. That's fine with me."

"Alright," Mr. Samuels stood up, as we all did. "Then I guess we're finished here." He thanked us for our time, shook all of our hands, and excused himself, for he had to attend another meeting. When gone, he left the three of us in the large room that was so quiet, the close of the door echoed as if it had slammed.

"Well, that was weird. Anthony, can we go to McDonald's or something? I'm hungry." In addition, his stomach growled that echoed throughout the room. I rolled my eyes, however Abigail laughed. _She has a really cute laugh._

"Hey! So there actually is a fifteen year-old hidden in that serious face." I joked.

She blushed. "Yeah, I promise you there really is. Just…not today."

"And we understand." I agreed. "We're not….well, none of us are used to something like this."

"True," she concurred. A mischievous grin overcame her face. "But I'm sure you guys are used to weirder things."

"What do you mean?" Ian asked.

She winked. "I Googled you guys. Or should I say, I Googled Smosh."

Ian and I laughed. "Ah, I see," I said. "What did you find? First impressions can be a real bitch."

"Well, I found out what Smosh was, first of all." She mentioned. "And then I found out that you two are partners. That's cool."

"Yeah," Ian nodded. "We've worked on Smosh for six years together. Being a business partner with your best friend can get annoying sometimes~" I jokingly punched him in the arm. "~But a lot of the time, it's fun."

She laughed. "That's nice, but that's also not what I meant. You guys are partners, as in a couple, right?"

"WHOA!" I jumped away from Ian as he did from me. We both shuddered off what Abigail had just said. I scratched my head in embarrassment. "No, dear god, no! We're not! Where did you hear that?"

Abigail blushed furiously. "Something called 'fanfiction'. It mentioned that you guys were together so I figured….Oh dear god, I'm so sorry…."

Ian and I nodded in agreement as we muttered, 'slash'. We explained to her what it was. Eventually, she understood the concept and realized she was far off from reality. After frantically apologizing numerous times, Abigail was able to laugh it off.

Ian looked at his watch and gasped like a women. "Oh my goodness, Anthony!" He cried in a feminine voice. "Look at the time! We better get going! OMG, Abby!" He kicked up one foot and hugged Abigail, lifting her into the air. "We'll see you later, kk?" Ian grabbed my hand and led me to the door. I averted his grasp and was able to make a proper good-bye, much the opposite of my hello.

"Well, Abigail~" I began, but she cut me off with a smile.

"~Abby. You guys CAN call me Abigail, but Abby's a lot more informal. And I'll see you tomorrow, too, Anthony. It was nice meeting you both."

"Then this is a good-bye to you, Ms. Abby." Ian changed his voice to an English gentleman as he held open the door for me.

"Yeah, bye, Abby." I waved as I stepped outside the room. She waved with a grin and we parted.

As Ian and I walked down the long corridor to the elevators, he grinned a smug smile. "What's that face for?" I asked.

"I told you, didn't I?" He held his head high.

I rolled my eyes, knowing whenever Ian acted like this, he was right and wanted to rub it in. He came with me here to deal with this, so in return, I played along. "Told me what, Ian?"

"I promised that she won't be that bad!" Ian strode ahead of me so he could press the elevator button.

I tried to think of a sarcastic comeback, but I couldn't. All I could think was, "Yeah, she really wasn't."

* * *

**Phew! After all that, I need a nap!**

**Anyway, just one more author's note for this chapter, I promise! I'm kind of a grammer nazi, so if there's two sentences that do not have two spaces between them, I apologize for that. I know there is supposed to be two spaces between each, but for some reason when I upload a document to the Doc Manager, it makes every sentence only one space. As you can tell, I upload at like 11:30 pm (why I do this to myself, I'll never know!) and by that time I'm really tired and don't feel like editing all over again, so if you see a silly mistake like too-close sentences, disregard it. I'm not dumb, just tired :D Haha thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**You: KATIE! YOU GET THE WORST POSTER OF THE MILLENIUM AWARD!**

**Me: ... I know... BUT THIS TIME I HAVE A LEGITAMETE REASON!**

**My sister had the computer for the entire past week. Literally. Meaning this is the first time in a week I've had the computer for more than ten minutes to write, edit, and post. But luckily, she's done so I promise posting will be much regular from now on. ****(I realize I promised this last chapter, but the promise starts...NOW! .) ****So, in return for your patience for the next chapter, I have rewarded you guys with yet another long chapter! Keep on Smoshin'!**

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**Abigail's Point of View**

For the seventh time that night, my eyes shot awake. I huffed in frustration and rolled over on the mildly comfortable bedspread to check the time on the wall clock. 7:50 am. I moaned. There was no point spending thirty minutes trying to sleep and only sleep for ten minutes. For the past week, I had spent a lot of time with Anthony, usually getting up early because he had to work during the day. I was okay with that, despite the fact I was still on Eastern Standard Time; each night I wasn't getting enough sleep due to the early mornings, late nights, and not to mention uncomfortable cots.

With a groan, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Anthony was coming at 9:00 am or so to have breakfast with me. I was actually slightly excited for the breakfast, until I was informed a counselor was coming with us. Like this whole situation wasn't awkward enough. I rose from the cot and climbed down the bunk bed quietly, taking special precaution not to wake my sleepy neighbor, a five year-old boy who had a sweet smile on his dreamy face. When my toes brushed the concrete floor, they also touched something fuzzy and soft. I saw a furry lion on the floor next to the boy's hand that fell over the side of the bed. I picked up the stuffed toy and placed it next to the boy's cheek. When it touched him, his eyes opened slightly. He cuddled against the lion's head and shifted to the other side of the bed, quickly falling back asleep.

Under his bed, I pulled out my suitcase and chose what to wear. After shuffling through the disorganized mess of mismatched shorts and multiple dance costumes, I decided on a cute summer dress and slave sandals. With my toothbrush and other necessities tucked away in a little green bag, I made my way to the restroom of the building and stepped inside. Lights lit multiple mirrors that reflected the blue bathroom stalls. I flat-ironed my hair and fixed my make-up first, as I always did in my morning routine. When I changed in the stall, I heard someone else enter. I wouldn't have mind, but something about the women's heals made a recognizable click on the ground. _Who is she?_ I thought as I was just about the leave the stall. But when I heard the one-and-only high pitched cough and voice as she answered her phone, I banged my head on the door. _Oh, God. Why does it __have_ _to be Charlotte?_

With a deep breath, I built myself up to once again face her. Although I remained on good terms with her, she certainly did not with me. Her uncontrollable talking and annoying personality pinched my nerves, and I prayed that I didn't have to come in contact with her again. _She's on the phone, _I quickly thought of an escape maneuver. _If I can race out of here before she ends her call, I can avoid conversation._

My sandals made short clicks as I sped-walked to the sink next to hers and washed my hands. After collecting my jumbled bathroom supplies, I kept my head down while rushing to the exit.

My feet were caught in their tracks. I heard,"Oh, I have to go, Sharon. Just ran into my 9:00!" The phone snapped shut. "Abigail!" Charlotte exclaimed. I briefly looked up to the ceiling. _You have _got _to be kidding me. _

I rotated around to meet Charlotte squeezing me tightly. "Abigail Brooke! It's so great to see you again! I'm your counselor for the meeting with Mr. Padilla!"

_Abby or just Abigail…it's not a meeting, just breakfast…Anthony. _I silently corrected her. "Oh, that's great." I said with slight sarcasm, knowing she couldn't tell the difference.

She checked her Hello Kitty watch and gasped, her hand flying to her cheek. "Dear, dear! It's almost 9:00! Let's go!"

Charlotte hurried me to put my bag away. As we headed to the front of the building, we both spotted Anthony in a grey-stripped sweatshirt and black jeans. I waved and he did as well. Charlotte rudely joined in, and Anthony's wave wilted. Charlotte shook his hand and introduced herself. She commented on his appearance, frequently glancing up and down his clothes. She shot a few flirty looks before opening the door to leave the building. Anthony gulped nervously. When Charlotte led the way to a Starbucks across the street, Anthony turned around to me and motioned toward her. I shrugged, mentally saying 'I have no idea why she's here, either, but I guess we'll have to deal.'

The food was free for all of us. Anthony and I both came prepared with cash, but when the employee saw the WCMEC badge on Charlotte's shirt, he thanked her and the organization for all they had done for children across the nation. I stiffened a laugh, and from the discomfited cough from Anthony I could tell he was, too.

As we ate our food, Charlotte began a conversation

And continued it.

And finished it.

For the first ten minutes, neither Anthony nor I had gotten a word in. It wasn't until Charlotte mentioned he and I were quiet that Anthony spoke up. "Hey, Char," He romantically placed his hand onto hers. Her jabbering automatically stopped. I raised one eyebrow up in confusion. _What the hell?_

"Why don't you refill you're latte?" He commented with a wink. "Don't worry, I'll leave the tip."

She blushed frantically. "Why, how gentleman like you, Mr. Padilla." She giggled uncontrollably. "I mean, Anthony." Charlotte tried to return the wink, but it formed into a sort of double eye blink and a twitching right cheek. I recoiled.

Right as she spun around and made her way to the cashier, Anthony sputtered a laugh, threw some dollar bills onto the table, and grabbed my hand. He ran for the door, dragging me behind him. We half-walked, half-ran to the WCMEC building. Once we reached the doors, both of us caught our breath and he finally turned around and explained. "Sorry, Abby." He breathed. "I just couldn't take a second longer of her constant talking and flirting."

I laughed. "So, you ditched her?"

"WE ditched her, my friend. Welcome to the dangers and high risks of California." He held the door open for me and we went inside. Anthony 'checked me out' of the WCMEC so they would know I was with him. We hoped in his car, me not knowing where we were headed. "Oh, wait. You're from New York, right? You must be used to illegal activities on every corner. Ditching is absolutely nothing to you."

"You watch too much 'Law and Order: Special Victims Unit'*." I rolled my eyes and he laughed. _He has a really sweet laugh. _"New York City is nothing like that, at least during the day."

Anthony nodded, but then fell quiet for a few minutes. Once we pulled into the driveway to his house, (_Oh! So we're heading to his house_!) I broke the silence. Although I had only known him for a short amount of time, I began to pick up on Anthony's habits; one being if he was quiet during a conversation for more than ten minutes, something's up. When I asked him what it was, Anthony replied, "Do you miss New York, Abby?"

_Stupid question_. I thought sarcastically, but kept it to myself. "Of course I do. Don't get me wrong, Sacramento's awesome but~" I was interrupted by Ian shouting 'HI, ABBY!' throughout the house. I greeted him back with a 'hi', and Anthony complained that he never received a hello from Ian. When Ian told him to stop being a pussy, Anthony pretended to cry and ran into his room. I sighed and followed him, opening the door to see him laying in a seductive pose on his bed. I screamed and spun around with my eyes closed until Anthony resumed a normal sitting position. I sat down next to him and continued. "~Like I was saying, Sacramento's great, but New York was my home for…forever. I just miss it a little, you know."

He poked playfully at my side. "Miss 'it', or miss 'someone'. A super sexy special someone, maybe?"

I slapped Anthony's hand away as he had tazed me. "No, you jerk! Just a good friend of mine. A GREAT friend of mine, actually. We're inseparable, best friends. This is the longest time we've ever been apart."

"A week?" Anthony asked, surprised. "One measly week?"

I only nodded and shrugged. The thought of Kristi saddened me and I didn't want to talk.

After a second, Anthony had an idea. "Why don't you call her?"

"I'm not THAT stupid, Anthony Padilla." I protested. "I thought of that, but I don't own a phone."

"Well, why didn't you say so? Here!" He tossed me his iPhone. "Call her from my phone."

I glanced at him, asking if he was sure. "Positive! You call her. I'll be right back; I have to take care of some Smosh stuff."

He left the room and I quickly typed in Kristi's number. My heart pounded with every ring. It almost stopped when I heard the familiar, "Hello?"

I didn't say anymore than "Kristi?", mainly because Kristi didn't give me time to say anything more; she screamed with pure joy and went into a frenzy of questions. "How's California? Is it hot? How's Sacramento? How's Anthony? Ian? Where are you staying? Are you happy? Are you dancing? Do you miss me, because God, I miss you? What's everything like? TELL ME!"

So I did. We talked non-stop for at least twenty minutes. Kristi said everything was fine and boring over there at the dance academy. She rampaged about her new roommate, Tara. I burst into laughter when I found out who she was roomed with, though Kristi didn't find it as funny. Though she continued to rage on, I couldn't help but let the biggest smile (and tears) form. _God, I missed her._

After the call timer hit thirty minutes, I decided I'd better get off before Anthony has a heart attack when the bill comes for this long distance call. I bid Kristi good-bye. Slowly and reluctantly, the phone call conversation came to an end. I sighed as I pressed the long red button that read 'End'.

Quickly wiping the tears from my reddened eyes, I walked over to the door, turned the knob slowly, and then ripped the door open, causing Anthony, who had been eavesdropping for the entire time, to fall into the room. He laid on the ground in defeat. "I told you, Anthony. I'm not THAT stupid."

I helped him off the carpeted floor and onto his feet. He was blushing and rubbing his injured head. "Sorry." He mumbled as I shook my head in disappointment. "Hey!" He quickly changed the conversation. "I…overheard you like to dance!"

"Maybe," I said in a sarcastic manner. "Just a little bit."

"Well, there's an open call for Del Campo's Dance Studio tomorrow. Would you like to go?"

I couldn't help but control my excitement. "Yes, yes!" I exclaimed. "That would be amazing!"

"Cool!" Anthony gave me a high-five. "I'll go with you, if that wouldn't make you too nervous."

"You sure you want to go?" I asked, dubious. "Dance auditions are not very exciting."

"Nah, I'll be fine." He reassured. "Besides, all of the best dancers in Sacramento audition there, so it should be fun to watch." As I kept bouncing up and down on the bed, full of jitters, Anthony caught my head and pressed it back down. "Don't get your hopes too high, kid! Like I said, all the best dancers in Sacramento will be there."

_If you can make it in the New York Dance Academy, you can make it to the moon. _I didn't tell him this, though. A couple days ago, Anthony had asked me what my favorite thing to do was. He had told me work with Ian on Smosh, but our session ended right after, so I never got my turn to say. I wanted to surprise Anthony with the one thing I felt made me truly unique. So I just winked and said, "Don't worry. I _think _can handle it".

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***~BEST. SHOW. EVER.**

**Yeah, so that one was slightly a filler chapter, but it had to be there for the story to flow. :) Thanks for enduring it! Love you guys!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Exams + Graduation parties = I don't have time to breathe...or write! But since that is over, I had time to write a super long chapter (3,000+ words! That's usually three chapters for me!) Enjoy :D And thanks for being patient! :D Keep on smoshin'!**

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**Anthony's Point of View**

As Abigail and I drove to the studio the next day, we continued our question game, something we'd played over the course of the last week to get to know each other. We took turns asking each other questions, going along with the alphabet. Right now was my turn and we were on 'P'.

"Guilty pleasure?" I asked as Abby continued to get ready. Her head turned when I spoke, flipping her long hair tied in a high ponytail in front of her eyes.

"That starts with a 'G'."

"Picky, picky, picky…"

"Fine, fine. Um…_Legend of Korra_ and _Pretty Little Liars_." I laughed at her and teased. "Oh, ha ha, very funny, I know. Same question to you."

I froze. "Um, I don't have one."

"I highly doubt that." She picked, poking at my side.

"Fine, it's…it's _Glee_, ok?" Abby burst into laughter, wiping her eyes from tears. "Hey!" I defended. "It's no better than your two shows!"

"I guess not, but I've never met another 25 year-old who watches _Glee. _Idon't even watch it!"

"Oh, drop it!" I played along. "Ok, 'Q'…" We moved along as the car rode down the long highway. When we reached 'S', I asked her about school.

"It's school, Anthony." Abigail laughed. "No one has a favorite thing about it."

"Pick something!" I demanded as I pulled of route 7 and onto Handcook road. "If you had to choose between dying or taking one class for the rest of your life, which class would it be?" She opened her mouth to respond, but I stopped her in mid-breath. I already knew what she was going to say. "And no, you can't choose to just die."

"Damn! ASL, I guess. American Sign Language. I'm in my fourth year of it, so I'm not bad."

"You take ASL?" She nodded slightly as she took to bobby pin from her lips and place it in her long ponytail. "I did too in high school! I think I remember a lot, too."

"I didn't know they offered sign language during the cave man days." Abby teased. Once we stopped at a light, I showed one of the things I did remember with only one specific finger. She shot back a sign that meant the same as mine. Abigail took the side of her left hand, placed it on the inside of her elbow, and lifted her right arm up. She may not think I remember much, but as mature as I was, I certainly remember that sign.

Abigail's foot tapped rapidly on the side of the car. She twiddled her thumbs and continuously bit the inside of her cheek. _Three strikes and you're out._

"I thought you said you weren't nervous," I teased and nudged her.

Abigail laughed. "I'm not!" She protested as we pulled into the studio's parking lot. All the spots were filled except one. I parked in it as Abby continued to object. "Trust me, I've got this covered."

Out of the trunk, I pulled out her dance bag, but it dragged my hand straight to the ground with its weight. "Jesus Christ!" I cried. "What the hell is in this thing? An anchor?" I lifted it back up with all my might.

Abby hopped out to the car and smoothed out her gray sweat pants and tank top. "Just my jazz shoes, point shoes, tap shoes, a change of clothes, a water bottle, hair bands, brushes, and sprays, and about a million pairs of dirty socks I refuse to take out and clean."

"Ew!" I cried as I dropped the disgusting bag. Abby caught it in mid-air and placed the strap onto her shoulder with ease. "Show off," I mumbled.

Abby received her number, 56, and I pinned in on the front of her black leotard. As she stuffed her cover shirt and pants into her bag, I wished her the best of luck and she headed inside the studio that was packed with at least 60 aspiring dancers. Before she opened the door, I asked her where I should go.

"The overview loft," Abby responded quickly. She pointed to some carpeted stairs in the corner of the hallway that many mothers were entering. I followed them into a room with three large steps for everyone to sit on and watch the dancers in the studio below through a large window. In the mix of all the girls and guys, it wasn't hard to spot out Abby. She was the shortest and on the younger age of the spectrum. Some seemed almost four years older than her and much taller. Everyone in the studio warmed up with amazing stretching and turns and leaps. All the mothers cooed over their babies talents to each other. I began to feel nervous for Abby. Could she pull this off?

A glanced around for her again and found her near the cubbies in the corner. She laced up her point shoes, pulled on a light purple tutu, and found an empty place on the crowded bar to begin warming up. And once she did, my jaw dropped and I couldn't pull myself away. I felt the eyes of other people draw off their daughters and onto Abby as well.

With simplicity, Abby grabbed her right foot from behind her and pulled it behind her back to the top of her head. She tugged on it for a real stretch, then proceeded to the other. Next, she bounced up and down on the boxed point of her shoes and practiced her positions.

I spied some girls in the middle of the room, only a few feet from where Abigail was working, making rude glances over at her. They spoke sharply to each other and darted looks. Not long after, a lady, about forty years of age wearing a leotard covered by a skirt, made her way across the room. Every girl and guy's eye followed her, praying she wouldn't tap them out of the audition before it even began. She reached the two girls and they fell silent. The woman spoke to them harshly and pointed towards Abby, who finally looked up to see what was going on while still stretching.

While the woman spoke to them, one of the girls kept her head down and didn't speak. The other, however, spoke back and rebutted, shrugging her shoulders as if she did nothing wrong. This was NOT what the woman wanted. She pointed her fingers in the girls face and then to herself, to say you do not talk back. She pointed to the door and escorted both out. After, she called Abby over. The women motioned to the door where the girls just left. Abby shrugged, letting her know she didn't know about the remarks. The woman nodded and placed her hand on Abby's shoulder. I could hear a faint, "They're just jealous." Abby smiled and continued to warm up.

The women moved to the center of the room and started the audition. "Welcome all participants. My name is Madame Colette, and welcome to my studio. There are about sixty of you here, and the junior company is interested in about three more members, so perform your best and remember you are always being judged here in this audition, as two of our participants had to learn the hard way." A few girls looked phased and glanced to each other with nervous faces. "But on a lighter note, let's get started! Everyone get on your point shoes and begin with the bar. Ready? Arabesques…Posse…."

And it continued. Every minute, one girl would be tapped out and asked to leave. Each girl would stiffen as Madame Colette walked near them, causing some to lose focus and mess up. Most, then, would be tapped out and their audition would be over. By the end of warm-ups, more than half the girls and guys were done, but not once had Madame Colette moved towards Abby. I took it as a silent victory for her.

After a jazz segment, about half of the twenty that were left had been excused, leaving Abby and a few others. The final stage of the audition was solos. Most did ballet, which was done on these special shoes with boxes at the toes. One mother behind me began to remark about her daughter's performance on 'Pointe', which I guessed was with the fancy shoes. Others did a 'jazz' or modern dance piece in shoes that looked like tan old lady shoes ***.** Abby was the last to go. I expected her to do the same as all the others, mainly Pointe based on her high skill level displayed during the ballet portion. But she didn't.

Instead, she handed the swing****** a Maroon 5 CD and told him to play track 5. _Maroon 5? _I wondered. _Everyone else did either classical or songs I've never heard of. What is Abby doing?_

Out of the speakers blasted, 'Moves Like Jagger', and Abby burst into dance. She did twists and flips in the air, including a back-hand spring. A lot of her routine was contortionist acts, like back bends and flexible movements.

And she was good!

The same mother behind me exclaimed, "I didn't know we were allowed to do 'Acro'! It never said in the program this studio did such a thing!"

My heart began to race. _Abby's doing something not allowed? Why?_

"Stop being jealous, Mary," her neighbor commented. "Just because Alexi can't do it, doesn't mean it's not allowed. Besides, this girl's doing an acro-lyrical routine. Completely allowed." As my heart slowed down to a normal pace, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Mary's neighbor. "She's very talented, sir." She motion towards Abby, who must have been matched to me due to our shared characteristics. "A very excellent performer and technical dancer. You should be very proud!" Mary just stuck her nose in the air and stood up to walk away.

Once I turned back to the dance floor, Abby ended in a no handed cartwheel and doing the splits on the ground. The music stopped and Abby stood back up. She curtsied to Madame, and walked back in line with the rest of the dancers, who looked at Abby with envy and awe. Madame concluded the audition, thanked everyone for coming, and asked for one person to stay while the rest left the room and went to the hallway. I followed the mothers out of the overview loft and down the stairs to the hallway where all the sweaty and nervous kids waited for their turn to walk back into the studio and see if they made it.

I met up with a heavy breathing and sweaty Abby. I high-fived her and gave her a hug. Suddenly, I gave her a small but friendly whack on the back of the head. "Ow!" she exclaimed while gripping her head. "What was that for?"

"For never telling me you're such an amazing dancer! How are you so great?" I kept my voice low when I added, "You kicked everyone's ass, and they know it!"

A smirk came across her face. "Because when you asked me about school while we played that game, you asked for my favorite subject, not where I went."

"And that is?"

Abby motioned for me to come closer. When I did, she whispered in my ear, "New York Dance Academy."

"What?" I exclaimed, causing multiple people to turn around and look at me in confusion. "I know squat about dancing, but I know about that place! Isn't it, like, right behind the Joeffery School of Ballet in ratings?"

"I think it's ahead, actually, or it really should be." She said with a wink.

She and I sat on a bench in the studio and waited for her to be called. Eventually, all other dancers had been called and left with a sad and disappointed look on their face except for Abby and another. I recognized the other mom as Mary, who was coaching and harshly reminding her daughter what to do next time. The daughter just nodded and looked over to Abby, who was reading a magazine she found. I started to feel bad for the girl, who looked at Abby with such envy and lust as her mom continued to constantly critique her. The remarks stopped as that girl was called into the room. With a final glance, she looked back to her mom, who wasn't even wishing her good luck. The mom shot a nasty look to Abby and me, and sat back on the bench, slowly shaking her head.

Something was wrong, I could feel it. Each time a girl or guy went in, it took about five or so minutes until they came back out. This time, five minutes passed. Then another. And another. Abby placed back her magazine and looked around the room. She, the terrible mother, and I were the only ones left. Abby looked back at me. "How long has she been in there?"

"About fifteen minutes," I responded, placing my iPhone back in my pocket. "What does that mean?"

Abby rubbed her forehead and took a deep breath. "Something not good for me."

"What do you~?" But my question was answered as the girl came out of the room and danced all around with the biggest smile on her face. She ran to her mother. "Mom! Mom! I made it! I'm in! I made the company!"

My heart dropped and Abby's face whitened.

The mother hugged her daughter and told her how proud she was of her. They gathered up her stuff and left the door. The daughter's smile faded slightly as she caught a glimpse of Abby, whose head hung low. Abby sighed and stood up, collecting her stuff. "Well," she said to me. "That's that, I guess. Sorry you had to wait that long, Anthony."

"Don't worry about it," I told her as I gave her a hug. "They have no idea what they're thinking, Abby. You were brilliant."

She smiled slightly and we headed for the door.

"Wait! Abigail!" A voice behind us called us back. We turned to see Madame Colette calling Abby back. "Where are you going, dear?"

"Well, I didn't make it," Abby started. "I was heading home. Thank you for your time." Abby began to curtsey, but Madame stopped her.

"You didn't make the junior company, dear, because I didn't want you to!" She said.

I looked at Abby and she looked at me, both of us reflecting our confused faces. "What?" We said simultaneously.

"Company auditions were today, just for junior company," She explained. "But I always have my eyes out to improve our senior company: the company for 17-20 year-olds. You have a mass amount of skills, Ms. Brooke. I want you to be on my senior company!"

Abby's face brightened up like a risen sun. "Me?" She cried. "But I'm only 15!"

"But you are as brilliant as any of the other people in my other senior company. I really want you on it, Abigail. I know it's not what you auditioned for, but will you join it?" She looked at me and mentioned the senior company with have just as many benefits as the Junior Company audition had; full-ride tuition.

Abby nodded vigorously and quickly accepted. "You have a lot of heart, Ms. Brooke, and aren't afraid to press the boundaries. What really made me want to include you in the senior company was your solo. Not only did I need a good acro dancer, but the fact you didn't follow the crowd and did something different really made you stand out. Bravo, Ms. Abigail, and I'll see you next week when the season starts."

Abby must have said thank you ten times before she and I left. She hugged me and said thank you bringing her here. She was so incredibly happy now. I hadn't seen her like this since…well, ever since she was here in California, she wasn't really happy. But as we got in the car and she talked and talked, practically bouncing of the walls, I could tell she really was happy, and not just making the company. She placed her sunglasses on her face and continued to glance outside to the palm trees that outlined the streets. I could tell she was happy just being her in California here, with me. And you know what? I was pretty happy she was too.

**Abby's Point of View**

The way home I physically could not get the smile off my face or stop talking. I was on cloud nine; finally, I was going to dance again. Finally, I felt like I was home.

Anthony and I walked back into the house. We called for Ian throughout the house, but no response came. We simply both ignored it and I dropped my stuff on the couch while he went into the kitchen to fix up some lunch. The house phone rang, but Anthony ignored it as he had his hands full. The machine picked the call up and shouted out the recorded message. Like both of us expected, it was Ian who made the call.

"Hey, guys. It's Ian. I just wanted to say that I went back to the Southside of L.A. to pick up a camera…that I left there." Anthony sighed and rubbed his head in frustration. "Yeah, I know, Anthony…Sorry. Last time we filmed here, when you…you know, all of the crew was in a frenzy cleaning up, so we left some stuff. I realized I needed the camera to film 'Ian is Bored' right after you guys left the house, and since the episode is supposed to come out tomorrow, I figured I'd better go get it." A car door slammed in the background and I could hear footsteps on the ground, guessing they belonged to Ian.

He mumbled to himself, "We recorded here so the camera should be around here somewhere…" Dogs continually barked behind Ian, making it somewhat impossible to hear what he was saying at points. Trash cans banged against each other and I could hear multiple curse words sputtered about.

"Finally!" Ian bellowed. "Don't worry, I found it. It's in one of the buildings, just sitting on a table. I can see it from this broken window. Someone must have found it. I'll just pop in and get it." With a few grunts, Ian hit what sounded like concrete floor. Footsteps indicated he walked over to the table and grabbed the camera. "Weird," He said as he walked back to the window. "I wonder why this person wouldn't just leave it outside if they were going to just leave it on a~!"

A loud whack came from the machine. The phone muffled as it was dropped to the concrete floor. "What the fuck?" A pop rang throughout the phone, created by Ian's head colliding with the floor. Ian cried out in pain. Anthony and I crowded around the phone, panicking. Voices yelled all around, some directing to grab Ian's shoulders. "Anthony!" Ian cried, but someone punched his stomach. "ANTHONY!"

Automatically, Anthony picked up the phone and shouted into it. "IAN! IAN! CAN YOU HEAR ME?" But all that replied was a dial tone.

Before I could even gasp, Anthony grabbed me by the hand and ran to the door, me trailing behind him. In a millisecond, he had grabbed his keys and phone and sprinted outside to his car. We pilled inside and Anthony handed me his phone. "Call 9-1-1!" He demanded. I did as he told me. Anthony slammed his foot on the gas pedal and sped off down the road, his face pale as a ghost and hands shaking so badly, they barely stayed on the steering wheel.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

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**Yay! A cliff hanger! You guys know I love those! STAY TUNED :D!**

***~Thanks to Torixx3 for that awesome comparison!**

****~ In case you are unsure, a 'swing' is the person in a studio that runs the music**


	10. Chapter 10

**Phew! Long chapters are long! ... Ok this one isn't, but that's because it is part of a super-mega-ultra chapter I made this week that turned out to be an entire section of the story, so I decided to break it up into segments. Enjoy :D**

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**Anthony's Point of View**

My heart pounded in my ears. I drove at least ten miles above the speed limit, due to nerves and because I felt like I was going to vomit any second, which was caused by my worrying making me physically ill.

Thoughts of horror poured into my mind. _What are they doing to him? Why did this happen? WHAT'S going to happen? Are they going to _kill_ him?_

_Am I too late?_

Guilt began to sink in, just making everything worse. _I should have gone with him. This never would have happened. If I had been home, not at~_

"Anthony!" Abby screamed, breaking me free from thought. I almost drove off the road from surprise. "Slow down now or you are going to kill somebody!"

"If I don't slow down, somebody may be!" I cried back while swerving lanes to quickly exit off the highway.

"He's going to be fine," Abby soothed, but did not make eye contact. "He's….everything's fine."

My knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. I could physically feel all the anger and angst start to flow outside. "Everything is the opposite of fine, Abigail! Ian's in huge trouble! I don't know if he was just beat up by some thugs, or abducted, or…worse, but it doesn't matter whichever one it is. The fact is my best friend's in danger, and I'm going to do anything to help him, which includes not following the speed limit." I accelerated the car while I mumbled to myself, "Stop back-seat driving. You're certainly done enough."

But she heard quite clearly. "And what is THAT supposed to mean?"

I laughed drily and loudly. "Don't play dumb with me, Abigail. Don't pretend you don't realize if I was at home instead of at your audition, I would be with Ian right now. None of this would have happened!"

"Did you forget who told me about the audition?" Abby returned. "You!"

I blatantly ignored her input and continued on with my raged monologue. "Oh! Let's go back farther, shall we? This all started when Ian left the camera at the Southside of LA, right? Why did he leave it there?" I over-acted and thought sarcastically. "Oh, that's right! That was the day I got the call from the East Coast Missing and Exploited Children service about YOU! I fainted and Ian, with all the commotion, had to pack up with only him and the crew and left a camera there. The camera that~" I gave a fake gasp. "~that he was looking for today. This ALL seems to fall back on something, doesn't it?"

"WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY, ANTHONY?"

I slammed my hands down on the steering wheel so hard it made the car horn blare.

And I lost it.

"Everything leads back to you! Ian's disappearance, all of the problems, they were all caused by you! And you know what? I HATE YOU FOR IT! I WISH YOU NEVER CAME HERE!"

All the anger that had doused me was now empty. Finally I came into realization of what I had just said. All of it was just hot air and words; I didn't mean any of them. But when I looked over to Abigail to see her horrified expression, I knew she thought I meant it.

"Abby," I began but didn't finish. She looked away and out the window, wearing a look that read she knew she wasn't wanted the entire time she was here, (or perhaps always), but it was just apprehended. I closed my open mouth and faced the road once more. There was nothing else I could say to clear the air. It was too polluted with false words, and I had no chance of regaining them. The rest of the ride there was dead silent.

Once we reached the broken down city, I located the place where Ian was taken based upon the sounds and places we heard on the phone: dogs barking, trash cans, and a broken window, then parked behind an old unoccupied building. The sun began to set in the distance, making the tensions even tighter to help Ian and get back home quickly. I began to unbuckle my seatbelt when Abby spoke up with a flat tone. I glanced over to see she was already halfway out the door. "No, I'll go get him. You stay here with the car running."

"Wait, Abby! I just wanted to say~!" I was stopped by the slam of the car door. Abby headed to the building without looking back. My head fell to the tip of the steering wheel, making the air horn blare once more. I quickly recoiled and huffed in frustration. _Great, I almost gave away our position. Looks like today I'm proving that_ _I can be a real jack ass sometimes._


	11. Chapter 11

**Finally! A chapter in a reasonable amount of time! Gotta love summer! Enjoy!**

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**Abigail's Point of View**

I ran over to the building where Anthony and I were sure Ian was. I tried to focus on what I was planning to do once I saw him, but my mind kept drifting to what Anthony said. _I hate you! This is your fault. _Every word pierced inside me like a knife. I thought we were friends. I thought he enjoyed my company as much as I did him. _I never should have trusted him so quickly._

But how could he think I didn't feel partially guilty for this. What he said was true, but neither I nor anyone could have prevented this. We can't dwell on what could have been; we needed to focus on what was happening now. And it was time to get my head out of self-pity and onto helping Ian. _You wish I never came here, Anthony? Well, trust me, I feel the that way, too._

I crept around the entrance door where a few people stood inside, engaged in a conversation. Because they were distracted, I was able to make it to the side of the building without being detected. I turned around in a circle, trying to find the window Ian was talking about. Eventually I found a window behind a group of old dumpsters. When I looked inside, however, I did not see the table inside a moderate-sized room as Ian described. I saw something better.

There he was. Ian Hecox was roaming around a small room; so small he was only able to take five steps before hitting a wall and having to spin around. He didn't look too hurt, just a bruised arm and a black eye. Besides that, he was perfectly fine, despite his look of complete boredom.

I glanced around the room from the tiny foot-by-foot window to make sure Ian was the only one present. When I saw that he was, I made my move. "Ian!" I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear through the glass.

He spun around to the direction of my voice. His face brightened and a huge smile blew up. "Abby!" He cried, but I shushed him. Ian's voice came to a whisper. "Boy, am I glad to see you! It's seemed like forever in here, what time is it?"

"Never mind that," I said while kicking the padlock that bolted the window shut. "We need to get you out of here." The padlock wouldn't budge. On one of my attempts I missed the lock and kicked the window, which cracked so loudly it echoed throughout the room. My heart jumped to my throat when people who were apparently outside the door to the room had their attention caught and began rapidly talking in Spanish. They fumbled with the locked doorknob which created a rattling sound inside the room. "And fast."

I gave in and kicked through the cracked window. Glass shattered down five feet to the floor of Ian's room, some cutting the bottom of my leg. I cursed quietly and held my hand down for Ian. He gave me one hand and kept the other on the edge of the window sill. I pulled up as he bounced off the ground and pushed with his elbow on the sill. His torso made it through, but as I tugged his legs the door busted open and two men rushed into the room. One yelled and the other lunged for Ian's legs. He grabbed onto them, placed both of his legs on the wall, and pushed with all his might to reel him back in. The yelling man cried down the hallway for others to help and to get the boss, whoever that was.

Ian cried and kicked his feet. Only his legs were still inside and with one final thrust of his feet, Ian jammed the man in the nose with his sneaker. The man recoiled in pain; he let go of Ian's legs and covered his face to block the excess blood. I shoved Ian off, who fell on top of me due to the suddenly release of the man's hands and grabbed his arm. We bee-lined to the building where Anthony waited, both panting and hearts racing.

Anthony's car was the light at the end of the tunnel. Ian leaped for the back door while I piled in the front. We must have caught Anthony by surprise, for he jumped when we got in.

"DRIVE!" Ian and I yelled, glancing back to the men from the building that were slowly catching up. Anthony set the car into gear and sped off, tires leaving marks on the dirt road.

"You guys okay?" Anthony asked as he turned onto long, winding concrete on the way back to the highway.

"He's fine." I said flatly. _He already knows how I am. Not that he cares, anyway._

"Ian?" Anthony glanced through the mirror.

Ian was still panting and was covered in dirt from the sprint. I looked down to see I was too. "Yeah, I'm fine, but that sucked. Thanks guys!"

Once Anthony and I knew Ian was okay, we automatically started cursing him out. After at least two minutes of Anthony and me overlapping our yells and frustration, we ended in simultaneously saying, "What were you thinking?"

"Well, I figured nothing bad could ever happen to me, which is always the start of a bad situation, believing you're always fine. So, I'm sorry I did and made you guys come all the way out here to help me. And thanks for doing so." Ian said as he twiddled his fingers, obviously embarrassed. He quickly changed the conversation. "Nice ending each other's sentences, by the way. I guess you two really are brother and sister; it's not just the looks."

I could feel Anthony's eyes fall on me, but I could return his glance. I was too embarrassed at what happened; how blind I was to how he really felt about me. It must have been a good minute of silence before Ian cleared his throat as if he realized he brought up awkward territory.

This road we traveled on stretched for four or five miles so I knew we had a while until we got off it and actually saw people. It was so abandoned that you could see tumbleweeds go by ever so often (how cliché, I know). Eventually I got used to the emptiness, but something caught my attention after a while. I noticed in the rear view mirror there was a black truck that had been behind us for about a mile.

"Anthony?" I nudged him in the rib, though I didn't even feel like touching him I was so

bitter. He turned to me surprised and asked what was up. I motioned behind us to the black truck. He looked back in his rear view mirror and saw it.

"Probably nothing," Anthony blew off my comment, but our car moved slightly faster. I believed him and continued to look out the window. When I looked back, however, the mirror outside the car projected a different picture. More than one car was behind us now. There was now a black truck, followed by two more trucks, one red and one blue, and a white van. The red crept up beside the black truck and pulled up slightly ahead of us. The white van trailed slowly behind.

"An-Anthony?" I warned, trying to hide my nervousness.

"I know!" He said harshly and the car thrust forward. Anthony began to accelerate.

Suddenly, the red truck plunged ahead of us and into our lane, only feet from colliding with the front of Anthony's car. He gasped and honked loudly but it did not help. The red truck slowed down immensely, causing Anthony to do the same as well. I shot my head over to the white van that pulled off the road onto the dirt surroundings. _What the hell was going on?_

As the red truck continued to slow, the black truck picked up speed. It rammed into the back of Anthony's car, causing all of us to jolt forward. We were basically stuck between two cars; only one foot from front and back disconnected us. Anthony swerved to the left in order to escape, but a massive push came from my side. I caught a glimpse of the blue car as our Honda Civic began to spin out of control.

All of us screamed at the top of our lungs and hung onto the sides of the car. The car wheels screeched along the pavement and skidded as it met the dirt. I felt Anthony's hand grasp onto mine and I squeezed it. The scenery danced around us like a moving picture, a mix of blues and browns encompassing it. As we spun around in a perpetual motion with our dancing image all around, I spotted a different color racing towards us. White appeared on my side of the window.

And my side of the car collapsed into it.

Glass shattered all around, flying inside the car and out. I flew out of my seat and diagonally but my seat belt caught me. As I was dragged back to the seat by the belt, my head continued to spaz around as if trying to figure out what was going on. By the time I fell back to Earth, the lower part of my head collided with the metal door handle. I suddenly felt paralyzed and I couldn't move. All I wanted to do was let the unconscious feelings defeat me and sleep. Everything around me was fuzzed by the overwhelmingly loud and painful ringing that bled from my ears. My hands gripped them in agony.

_Were they my hands? _I didn't know due to the multiple hands encircling me and grasping my shirt and body. They pulled me upwards with no struggle from myself, for I felt like I was already floating. Four clasped onto my clothing all around me; two for both my legs and two for my arms. As they carried me across the distance ground like baggage, I glanced around to see where they were taking me. All my blurry and darkened vision could see was more men handling Ian and Anthony, who were also unconscious. The scariest part was I couldn't tell if they were dead or alive.

We all made our way to the white van. I tried to pull myself down from their grips but it was no use. Even if I had my entire strength, I wouldn't be able to free myself from their clutches. I felt weak and helpless as I was thrown into the back of the van with Ian and Anthony toppling beside me. "Please…" I begged as they began to close the doors. "Please let us go…" But they didn't. They simple ignored what I had said and shut the doors.

And when the lights went out and the van blackened, so did I.


	12. Chapter 12

**Anthony's Point of View**

With our hands bound behind us and our eyes blind-folded with some cloth, all Ian and I could to the entire journey was think about the horrors that led ahead. 'Where they were taking us', 'why we were kidnapped', and 'what was going to happen to us' buzzed around in my head like an angry hornet. Ever since I woke up to Ian poking at my side with the tips of his fingers, I had been pondering and dreading the future.

The van had been driving for at least an hour now. As far as I know, it had been seven hours more. I had no idea how long we were unconscious, but by my rested feeling (and aching and bumped head) I figured it must have been a while. This all made the fact that Abby hadn't waken up yet even more frightening. But soon after, she awoke to my constant nudging of my hand to her leg. _Why did she take so much longer to awake?_

Abby groaned as she pulled herself up from the bottom of the van. By the sound of shuffling and sudden hyperventilating breaths, I could tell she moved her hand around in the bonds of the ropes to notice they were tied and was startled. I placed my finger tip to her hand, not to try to untie the ropes (which I already tried with Ian) but for comfort. Her breathing slowed down and she stopped squirming. "A-Anthony?"

"Yeah, Abby," I hushed. Ian and I were too terrified to talk for the whole trip, so I kept my voice to a near inaudible whisper. "I'm right here. Me and Ian."

Abigail's voice quivered in fear. "W-Where are we? W-What's going on?" She suddenly flinched and twitched. "Why do my ears feel like someone stabbed scissors in them?"

I quickly shushed her again as I heard someone climbing over the passenger seat. My grip tightened on Abby's hand as they came closer. A firm hand gripped my hair and tugged it forward. I cried in pain and allowed my head to follow the grasp. The hand then forcefully removed the blindfold from my eyes. I blinked furiously to adjust my sight to the surroundings. A low-hanging light bounced along the car ride, presenting a small beam of light that made it almost impossible to make out the man's face. "Alright, ladies," He said as he removed Ian's and Abby's blindfolds. "Before we get to our destination, we need a few quick questions answered." He spoke calmly and medium-paced, as if something like this happened every day. _Maybe for him, it does._

"What do you want with us?" I asked firmly while straightening up, trying to hide my trembling fingers.

"Like I said, we want answers." He glanced to Ian. "Starting with you. How did you know where our lab was, and who are you working for?"

Ian scrunched his eyebrows. "A lab? As in a Meth Lab? THAT's what it is?"

Apparently the man was the only one who was to ask questions. He rammed his foot into Ian's stomach, causing him to gasp for air and start coughing immensely. _Oh, God. The last thing we need is Ian having an asthma attack…_

"Now is REALLY not the time to play stupid," He informed. "I'm going to ask you one more time." He kneeled right into Ian's face. "Who. Sent you."

"No one!" Ian insisted. "I wasn't part of some investigation or whatever, I swear!"

"Then explain why you were there!" The man asserted, holding a hand to Ian's face. Although he tried not to, Ian flinched.

"All I was doing was getting the camera back. You know, the one on the table? I left it at the south side for a shoot more than a week ago. I needed it back, so I came here and found it through the window. I wasn't breaking into your 'lab', I just needed my camera back!" Ian explained, his words rambling as the hand in front of his face stiffened with every word.

The man pulled away, to Ian's relief, and laughed. "Funny! But tell me, what would a wimpy 17 year-old need with a Panasonic movie camera?"

"That's basically our job," I intervened, giving Ian the time to catch his breath. Neither of us bothered to correct the age statement. "We make videos for a living so we have really nice cameras."

"Videos for what?" He asked with a raised eye brow.

"Well, YouTube. We're part of the~" But his attention passed on what I was saying. He waved me off as his eyes caught sight of Abby, who sat next to me with her eyes wide and mouth glued shut.

"Well, look-y what we have here." The man strolled over to Abby and brushed a lock of raven-black hair out of her face, then stroked his finger down her cheek. She looked down and shifted in her seat.

"Leave her alone! She doesn't have anything to do with this!" I demanded while moving around in my seat, trying to get my legs out in front of me and stand up. Without breaking eye contact with Abby, he roughly tapped my face and pushed me back down. "Don't worry, big guy. I ain't doing nothing."

"Now, tell me, honey," The man pulled her chin and head up to his. Abby tried her hardest to pull out of his face. "Are they lying or not?" With her eyes forced down, she shook her head strenuously.

The man sighed and tsked. "I don't think you're telling the truth either. Prove it to me." He then pushed her lips to his and kissed her massively. Abby's eyes grew in size and tears formed in the edge. Her head was pressed against the side of the van and was unable to move farther back. Ian and I yelled out while he continued to stick his tongue down her throat. My protective instincts took over as I spazed around on my legs yelling, attempting to free myself of the bonds and beat the shit out of him.

To my fear, his hands slowly moved from her cheeks and down to the zipper of her jacket. As the front of her black, tight leotard began to peek out, Abby had enough. She took her knee and shoved it where no man wants it to be. He recoiled in pain and gripped his area while pulling away from Abby's mouth. She gasped for air and began to breath normally again, relieved.

The man wasn't as happy, however. "You bitch!" With one swift motion, he stood up and slapped Abby on her right cheek. She yelped and kept her face down afterward.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter if you guys were telling the truth or not. You all have still seen too much. It's time for us to know you'll keep this to yourself, once and for all."

As he began walk back to the passenger seat, I cried, "Wait, what does that supposed to mean?"

"You'll see when we get there." He informed with no emotion in his voice. He froze in his spot.

"Get where? What do you~?"

"You know what?" He walked back over to us and thrust the blindfolds back on. "Maybe it's time for you to stop asking so many questions, huh?" His shoes clomped back to the front of the van, insinuating he left our voice range.

"A~Abby?" I was reluctant to ask how she was, or how she felt.

She sniffed subtly. "Yeah."

"Are…are you ok?"

A sputtered sigh came from my right. "Yeah, I'm fine…I'm ok." But it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me.

None of us talked for the rest of the ride that must have been an hour or two, mainly because none of us knew, or wanted to talk about, what lay ahead. After what seemed like an eternity, the van came to a jolting stop which made us all pile onto each other due to the force. Seconds later, a bright light shown through the edges of the blindfold and hands gripped my elbows and dragged me upwards. I felt a knife slide past my ankles, cutting the ropes that bound them. I grunted as the knife skimmed across my skin.

All of us piled outside the van and onto dirt ground (for once, my loose fitting flip-flops that must have been left in my car came to my advantage). The cool crisp air was reliving to the stuffy atmosphere of the car. Sticks and twigs broke under the feet of about five people, including Ian, Abby, and I. We walked for about ten minutes until the hands led us in a different direction. The men's voices echoed, meaning we reached an open area.

They talked inaudibly to each other for a while. Eventually, I could pick out a 'yeah' and 'if you say so'. More of these words came into play until they all came to agreement. The man who held onto me then pushed my shoulders down and I tumbled to the ground. Two other bodies fell next to me with their wind knocked out of them. _What was going on now?_

But my question was answered too quickly. A gun cocked right behind me. "Alright. Let's get this over with."


	13. Chapter 13

**Power outage in Virgnia...No...internet! *gasp* TELL MY MOTHER...I LOVED HER!**

**Ok, so maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but I did lose power last weekend and didn't get the internet back until last Monday, and I usually write chapters during the weekends. With camp and all this week, I've written as fast as possible haha. So, for being awesome and patient, I give you a super long chapter! Enjoy!**

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**Anthony's Point of View**

Deep breaths and sputtered sighs emerged from the three of us, signaling we all figured this was going to happen. Forest ground crumpled beneath the shoes of our assailant, shifting to my right to Abby and they stopped. "The girl first?" He asked to another.

Then something clicked. I'm not sure if was just 'in the heat of the moment' or out of pure fright and stress, but suddenly I went in full out protection mode. I spazed around on the ground despite the foot that held me down. I screamed, my voice echoing throughout the forest. "Not her! Not her! I swear to God, she didn't do anything! WE didn't do anything, stop it!"

The man behind us grunted and threw down the gun. By Abby's yelp, I could tell he lifted her off the ground by her hair and dragged her across the forest floor. "Fine!" The man behind me called. "I'm sick of this whining crap, anyway! Take her back to the van, Alec. We'll figure out what to do with her later." As scuffling was heard, I could take a miniscule sigh of relief that she was safe. The man mumbled to himself with a dirty tongue. "Now then, where were we?"

I gulped and let a tear shed in my blindfold as I felt the cold touch of metal to my head and the lock of the trigger. _This is it. I'm done._

Abigail's cries rang out, but they were all merged together like voices in water. The man behind me took a deep breath and he flexed his finger. "THEY'LL MATCH THAT BULLET TO THAT GUN!"

I stiffened and winced, my eyes glued shut. I was dead, and I was sure of it. Soon enough, I would feel a floating sensation and 'let go'.

But it never came.

Gingerly, I reopened my eyes and looked around to see the familiar black cloth. _I'm…I'm alive? _Ian's voice whispered with a shaky voice, "A~Anthony?"

"I'm here, Ian." A shaky sigh of relief flowed from Abby's and Ian's directions.

"Shut up, you two." The man behind us demanded. Once again, hands gripped both my elbows and lifted me onto my feet. My blindfold was taken off, along with a few hairs that hung over my eyes. I blinked my eyes rapidly, adjusting them to the sun-setting sky. My eyes followed the light down to my feet where a bullet hole was made, right next to where my head rested. I shivered and looked back up to see Ian and Abigail both standing with someone gripping their elbows and blindfolds off.

One man who was not handling one of us walking slowly up to Abby's pale face. "What do you mean they can trace the bullet to that gun?"

"Ballistic fingerprinting," Abby said in a high pitched voice. She remained eye contact, but with her tapping feet and tone it was obvious she was incredibly intimidated. "When there's a crime involving a gun, the police can take the bullet found and match it to a certain gun based on the marks the firearm leaves on the bullet."

The man opened his mouth to reply, but was lost for words. He looked to his companion on his right and the man merely shrugged, obviously stumped as well. "Don't just shrug at me, dumbass! What do you expect us to do now?"

"How am _I_ supposed to know?" The other, who was gripping Ian's elbows, yelled back. As he yelled, his hands shook Ian back and forth. "The boss didn't tell us what to do in the first place! This was our best idea!"

"So, none of us have any idea what to do now?" All men shook their heads. Some replied with, 'Well, they've already seen our faces,' and 'Yeah, Greg's right, they have. What's your next big move, 'smart one'?'

"Everyone shut up!" His voice echoed throughout the area. His hands began to shake and he nervously glanced around to the people who looked at him for their next move. The man sharply broke eye contact and started to pace back and forth. "I need to think…"

"Why not just…leave them here?"

A short, quiet man barely spoke in the distance. This was the first thing he had said during the entire argument. Everyone's eyes (including Ian's, Abby's and my eyes) shot to him in amazement.

"That'll never work, it's~" The pacing man stopped and turned to him. "~perfect." He went over it in his head, working out the possible outcomes. "Yeah…yeah it would! Let's do that."

And so they did. With metal wire retrieved from the van, they intertwined it with the ropes bonding our hands and wrapped the metal wire around a tree. The manacle was so tight that we were unable to move up or down the tree, just to crouch uncomfortably on the ground with our hands tied not only behind out backs, but behind a tree as well.

Abby, however, was not tied to the tree yet. Her captor had not moved toward a tree yet, but leaned over beside her. Due to the emerging darkness, I could not see what he was doing to her. It wasn't until my eyes completely adjusted that I saw what was going on; he was sweet-talking into her ear while Abigail winced with every word. Slowly, I watched his hand slip from her cheek down to her chest, unzipping her jacket and placing his hand inside. Abby gasped wildly and jerked backwards, but the remaining hand on her shoulder kept her from moving. She screamed into the night in violation and lack of control of her own skin.

"Hey!" I growled to him, noticing he was the same man as before. Loudly, I slammed my leg onto the ground. "Get off of her! Stop what you're doing, now!"

He turned away from Abby, who sighed and breathed relief, and pouted at me. "Aw, come on, man! You're killing my game here!"

"YOU'RE SICK!" I barked. "FOR THE LAST TIME, GET YOUR DAMN HANDS OFF OF HER!"

The man squinted his eyebrows, then turned away and looked behind him and Abby. He smirked and looked back at me. "My pleasure." He sing-songed.

With one flick of the wrist, the man pushed Abby's chest backwards, causing her to lose her balance. She stumbled backwards and I heard rocks skid. I noticed something I hadn't before: a ledge that was blocked from view by the setting sun. Abby's leg fell behind it and she tried to regain her balance afterwards, but it was too late.

In what seemed like slow-motion, I watched my sister fall backwards down a steep hill side. It was indescribable how loud she screamed in terror. Rocks clinked against one another that skidded from her fall. A _clunk _followedthat was unmistakably caused by a head colliding with a rock. Then silence.

"A…Abby?" I said. My worst fears were realized when nothing but silence answered me. "Abby?" I asked louder, panicking with every second. "ABIGIAL!"

My heart was broken. It felt like someone had literally ripped it out of my chest and stomped on it. I was destroyed with sadness, fear, and anger. My head slowly turned to the man that did this. His eyes met mine and grew wide with fear. My furiousness burned through his skull like fire. "…YOU…"

The man took a step backwards in terror as I shook around in my bounds, threatening him with every word I knew. His mouth hung wide open and he held his hands out in front of him in protection. It wasn't until someone called him over that he broke from his state of panic and left without looking back.

"ANTHONY!" Ian finally brought me back to Earth. My shouting in random directions for the criminals to come back and get what they deserved seized. I immediately stopped and looked to him. "You. Need. To. Calm. Down." Ian spoke slowly and with a demanding tone in his voice. After gazing into his usually giddy and joking eyes replaced with serious and scared ones, I listened.

"Sorry," I breathed, taking a grasp of reality once again. Ian nodded and glanced away, silenced by the events that lay ahead. We both knew there was no way out of our manacles, for we had already tried. We were stranded in the middle of nowhere, tied to trees like animals. It had been hours since we last had an idea where we stood, since we ate, and since we were safe. The whole word was just filled with 'I don't know's right now. It scared me and I hated it.

"Did you know that in the medieval times, captors would tie their victims to trees and have the vultures pluck out their skin and organs?" Ian broke the silence with a stereotypical 'The More You Know' meme voice and ended it with the famous NBC jingle. I looked at him in bewilderment and amazement.

"Ian…What…What the hell?" I couldn't help but laugh. A small smirk formed on his face.

"THAT was my plan." He motioned toward my laughter.

"Even in THIS situation, you can still make a joke, can't you?" I laughed again then sighed. "Ian?" I continued quietly. "Are…are we getting out of here?"

Ian, who was laughing too, stopped abruptly. He took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. "Anthony, for one time, I honestly don't know." He struggled in his restraints. "I can move just as little as you can. Right now, our hands are tied…No pun intended."

For my next question, however, I was terrified for a truthful answer. "What about Abigail? Ian, is she going to be okay?" I closed my eyes and waited for a heart break. Ian, however, never responded. When I looked back up at him, Ian was focused on something behind me. I figured he was just ignoring my question, not wanting to give me an answer. "Ian, just say it. I need to~."

"Ssh!" A very loud and compelling hush came from Ian as his eyebrows scrunched together in thought. He was still incredibly interested on what was happening behind me.

"Why? What's going~?"

"SSH!" This time he was even louder and more forceful, and I quieted, listening in the same direction to figure out what the problem was. Ten seconds passed and I heard nothing. Just as I opened my mouth to question Ian again, I heard it. A sound of twigs and rocks knocking together in the distance. Five seconds passed and it happened again, this time closer.

"What the hell is it?" I asked aloud.

"I don't know," Ian said. "But I'm going to try to get its attention."

"Why?" I burst. "What if it's some bear or whatever? It'll eat us!"

"What if it's a person who can help us? Whether it's that or a bear, we're dead where we sit. Might as well take our chances, as out of our favor as they may be."

Despite all possibilities, I joined Ian in his yelps for help. We cried through the forest air for anyone that might be in vocal range. Every few seconds we would stop to listen for the twigs breaking again, hoping they would move closer to us. After a few minutes, I couldn't hear the twigs breaking anymore.

Because I couldn't hear them over the sound of a walkie-talkie.

Ian and I went mental over the sound, calling into the wild like animals until our voices went soar. Branches from trees shifted next to us, and out from the shadows came a man in a blue-collared shirt and black pants; a uniform I recognized as a police man's. Ian and I screeched with sheer delight as the man said into his microphone. "Um…Jim? Yeah I think I found them."

Ian and I tried my best to hide our deepest relief in our emotions. To be honest, I wanted nothing more than to just start bawling in fetal position as the policeman cut the cord that connected me to the tree, but I had someone on a goddamn mountain to take care of. That was more important than my own comfort.

As soon as I was free, I bee-lined for the hill, toppling down it with my feet bare feet digging into dirt and rocks. To tell the truth, it may have been a safer and easier maneuver to tell one of the officers why I was running down a mountain, but at the point, my mind was set on one thing and one thing only; helping Abby. Luckily, I was able to drag my focus off of that because I heard Ian's voice in the background explaining what I was doing and place it on my little sister who laid 10 feet from me with her hands still tied, head gashed with a large cut and blood, and empty eyes that were semi-closed and filled with large tears.

I gasped and ran to her side. I breathed sharply as I fell to her side. "Oh my god!" After tearing through the ropes at her wrists, I placed my hand gently onto her large cut to stop the bleeding, but also expected her to flinch. But when I did, to my fear, she did nothing. All she did was lie in this semi-conscious mindset, staring blankly at nothing. It wasn't until I continuously called her name did she break this state and look me in the eye. Her eyes were sad and helpless. And for the first time ever, I saw in Abby's eyes the lack of apathy she had, the 'girl power' approach for everything. She looked purely broken.

"Abby," I whispered, stroking a strand of raven hair out of her eye. "Can you hear me?"

Abby did not respond with words. She simply half-smiled and with a slow and shaky hand, placed her fingertips to my cheek. I let a giant tear fall and squeezed her hand. "I'm so sorry. I…I let him hurt you, didn't I?" I whispered hoarsely.

Abby blinked and let her eyes fall down to the filthy ground. A sad tear fell from her eye and I noticed her hand crawl up her side and protect her chest, apparently recollecting what had happened. A small whimper came as she twitched from the memory.

I shushed her and moved her hand away. "I know, I know, and I'm so sorry. But we're safe now, okay? They're gone and policemen are here to help us. They can't hurt you anymore, I promise." All the response I received, however, was a blank and puzzled expression on her face.

"Why aren't you saying anything? I mean, I'm good at lip-reading, but why?"

My heart jumped. "What? You can't hear me?" I was once again answered by a blank stare. _Why can't she hear me? WHY CAN'T SEE HEAR ME? _

All of a sudden, Abby cried out in pain. I jumped backwards as she pulled her hands away from mine and slapped them to her ears. She crunched into a fetal position and began to cry massively.

"Abby! What's wrong? What's wrong?" I screamed at her, trying to figure out what to do. Eventually, I was able to pry her hands away from her ears to see what was wrong. When I did, I sprung back in shock. In her hands laid puddles of blood that seeped from her ear. Her entire ear was covered in red liquid, and it began to flow down to her shirt.

"What happened? What's going on?" But when I looked up at her for an answer, I saw that one wasn't going to come for a while. Her eyelids covered folded over her eyes and her mouth drooped slightly open. Abby was out cold.

In an instant, I was on my feet with her in my arms. Carefully, I made my way up the steep hill, trying my hardest not to jerk Abby around. Once I reached the top, all the paramedics who arrived pried their eyes off their job and noticed her. Five of them at once came running towards me. One hefty man took her from my arms and ran her towards an ambulance**.*** I watched from the sidelines as my little sister was loaded into an ambulance and started to ride away; the last thing I saw before the doors closed was her limp hand hanging over the side of a stretcher.

Not long after, I realized I had no idea where they were taking her. I sprinted to a paramedic on stand-by. "Ah, Mr. Padilla!" He called. "I haven't examined you yet, have I? Please take a seat."

When I didn't sit down on the edge of an ambulance van and instead started talking rapidly to him about the whereabouts about Abby, he took my shoulder and pushed me down to the metal seat. "She's headed to the emergency room in Oakland. It's the closest hospital near here." He finally said after all of my fussing.

"The ER?" I stood back up. "Is it really that bad? She's going to be okay….right?"

The scariest part about that entire night was that paramedic just stared at me with a guilty expression on his face for a full 10 seconds. "Um…p~please sit down, I need to finish the examination."

The rest of the examination was done without a single word coming out of my mouth. After all of the events, I landed in a state of constant worry and shock. 'What if's slowly crept back into my mind. Luckily, that state was broken by Ian and an officer approaching me as my blood pressure was taken.

"Mr. Padilla, Mr. Hecox," the officer said in a grunted voice. "For the record, we need you to tell me as much as possible, down to the very last detail." He took out a pen and a notepad. After clearing his voice, he continued with the pen point ready. "Start from the beginning?"

My eyes pleaded to Ian for him to start and he nodded understandingly. "I guess I really should begin, right? Well, it all started a couple of hours ago, I guess…"

* * *

***~AMBERLAMPS! ...Sorry, I couldn't help it haha**


	14. Chapter 14

**FINALLY! Sorry everyone for the incredibly late chapter! I must have spent at least 3 hours JUST researching because I like my medical facts in my stories to be realistic and true (...maybe I watch a little bit TOO much of 'Law and Order SVU'...)and spent 5 hours writing! THIS CHAPTER TOOK FOREVER! AN ENTIRE WEEK TO WRITE! Phew! I worked super-duper hard on it, so I hope it's worth it to you guys! Thanks so being so awesome and patient, enjoy!**

* * *

**Anthony's Point of View**

For the majority of the time, I can wait for the things I want. I'm not exactly the patient type, but I can usually take my mind off whatever I'm after and focus on something else until it comes. But as I waited in the tiny hospital room with Ian in a bed adjacent to mine, I wasn't able to steer my mind to my crashed car or anything simpler. All that I could focus on was what had happened to Abigail. Out of all of the doctors that came into our room, I could get absolutely nothing out of them how she was doing. One talkative doctor slipped that once I checked out of the hospital myself, I could head to the emergency wing to see her, but until then, I was stuck in bed like any other poor victim in this quiet but fast-paced sick house, waiting for some test results to come. So, as one can imagine, waiting patiently in a scratchy hospital gown for news about her whereabouts was not in the question. This time was NOT in the majority of all the others.

"DUDE!" Ian barked from the other side of the room. I jumped in my bed and my head shot in his direction.

"What, what? I thought you were asleep!"

"Well, I was," Ian complained. "But I woke up from your foot's constant rapping on the side of the bed!" He huffed irritably.

Confused about what he meant, I looked down to my right foot to see he was correct; my heel bounced off of the edge of the metals bars metrically. "Oops," I mumbled with my cheeks growing red. "Sorry, man, I didn't even notice. I didn't mean to wake you."

Ian sighed, guilty. "No, I'm sorry I snapped. You know me, I need my eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. It's not just you, it's this hospital. I swear, it's like someone chops off their foot on the hour, every hour!"

I laughed, but quickly quieted myself. My chest throbbed every time I shifted my body. Through the adrenaline of the abduction, Ian and I must have been immune to the pain and our bodies put it off until later. And once later hit, we both hurt like shit. _I wonder how Abby is? Was she hit as hard as we were during the crash?_

_There I go again! _The realistic part of me groaned. _If I don't get out of here soon, I might have to check myself into the psychiatric ward for anxiety problems…_

To my relief, a doctor I recognized from about an hour ago strolled back into the room. _He's relaxed, _I thought. _That's a good sign, I think._

"Mr. Padilla, Mr. Hecox." He greeted us both with a nod. We greeted him back with a rushed 'hello'. Both of us were clearly nervous about his results. The doctor dragged over a chair from the corner of the room and sat down facing both of our beds. He clapped his hands together to signal he was ready and brought the clipboard to his face. He grinned and sighed. "Well, looks like you guys are my easy-briefing today!"

I looked at Ian and he did the same to me. Confused, I raised an eyebrow. "What exactly does that mean?"

Instead of responding with words, the doctor simply turned around his clipboard to show us. Written in columns were a series of medial questions, such as 'What are the medical handicaps of the patient, if any?' I skimmed the paper with my name across it. To my relief, most answers were 'n/a' or none. But I nearly jumped for joy when the question, 'Is the patient prepared for immediate release?' read 'yes'.

"I'm released from the hospital?" I sat up incredibly fast, causing a light-headed feeling. When the doctor nodded, I followed up, "As in, I am no longer a patient?" The man scrunched his eyebrows and slowly nodded again.

"Finally!" I cried, slamming my hands down on the sides of the bed. "So, now that I'm officially checked out, you can tell me what is going on with Abby, right? Abigail Brooke, my sister?"

The doctor's head shot up and his eyes grew wide and guilty. "…Oh….Yes, of course…" He cleared his throat and asked for the clipboard. When I handed it back to him, he gingerly flipped through the pages with his fingers. "Right then, Ms. Abigail. There are some…procedures we needed to discuss with you, her guardian. The reason we were not allowed to talk with you before is our 'Patient-Security' clause. At this hospital and many others, a patient is only allowed to make parental decisions for a minor if they are out of care. In further case~"

"~Ok, ok!" I was WAY past impatient. I already knew about the clause. "Just tell me what's going on with Abby."

It was obvious to him I was done with the stalling. "R-right. Well, first things first, I guess." He wiped off sweat from his brow. "All the information from…THAT night was taken, including what happened with her ears. As you know, they began to bleed after her head collided with a rock and after the car accident." With a deep breath, the doctor turned the clipboard around and showed me a diagram of the brain. He pointed to the lower side of the picture. "This is called a cerebrum. It controls the path where sound waves travel from the ears to the brain. When she hit her head, this was the part of her brain that was affected. It was ruptured, which caused the bleeding. When ruptured, the neural pathways of the cerebrum begin to repair themselves, which causes incredible pressure to build up in the cochlea. If too much pressure builds up, the cochlea will collapse, causing internal bleeding that is in no way stoppable."

I leaned my head forward to see if he would continue. When he simply started back at me with sad and guilty eyes. "And this means...?" I led.

I could tell he was hoping I put the puzzle together in my head. "This means," He leaned his head onto his hand and took off his glasses. Without looking back up, he finished without taking a breath in between his words. "This means that either Abby goes through surgery to fix and permanently close the pathways of the cerebrum to stop a collapsing cochlea or leave it alone and let nature follow its course. If it does, the result of unstoppable internal bleeding will be a casualty."

My heart jumped to my throat and my head became dizzy. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Ian spoke for both of us in a hoarse voice, "Either Abby loses her hearing permanently or she will…die."

The doctor looked up with the top of his eyes. He didn't meet my eyes, but my forehead. "Yes, sir. Now, as her guardian, you make the final decision what we do. Abby doesn't know the full story. We didn't want her to worry about it, so we waited until you were out of the hospital to make a move."

"Whoa, hang on! She doesn't know?" I cried. He opened his mouth to argue otherwise, but I knew his plan. "You want ME to tell her, don't you? You're too scared." The doctor closed his mouth and became silent.

I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration and stress. _How do I tell her? How can I…break it to her something she relies on so much is going to be gone in an instant? _"Fine," I confided. "Ian?" He turned to me with worrying and sorry eyes. "I'll…I'll be right back, okay?"

Ian smiled to the side as I stood shakily up. He sat up slowly and gave me a hug. "It'll be alright, man. We'll ALL be alright." As I walked out of my room and headed down the hall to Abby's, his words replayed in my head over like a record. And every time it replayed, the words sounded more and more forced and less convincing.

**Abigail's Point of View**

_No…No…No…God, I hate this show! _Eventually, I gave up on the 10-channeled television in my small hospital room and stared at the beige ceiling. It had been about seven hours since I woke up in this boring room and my aching head and throbbing ears hadn't stopped since. Lying in the bed wasn't even comfortable due to the itchy hospital gown the doctors had me in. Not long ago, I was bleeding from the ears and being tossed off cliffs. All I wanted to do was take a shower, but even that took way to much energy I didn't have. Overall, I just…well, I just felt like crap.

Every once in a while, a doctor or nurse would come in and check the multiple chords and needles that encompassed me. This time, it was a male doctor I hadn't seen before. When he entered the room, I stiffened and my eyes grew wide. Ever since….THAT happened, I became nervous and scared around unknown men. I knew it was irrational, but nothing could help it. The experience silenced me, but when Anthony walked in with this man, the silence went away.

"Anthony!" I cried and sat up, though it made my head dizzy. I gave him a big hug as he entered and closed the door behind him. "You're out of the hospital?"

"Yeah, I am." He replied while kissing my head and gently placing me to the back of the bed. I rolled my eyes but followed. "How are you feeling?"

_My ears are throbbing with pain, every time I move my head goes all light-headed, and I was molested less than 24 hours ago. _"Fine." I answered mono-toned.

Anthony pursed his lips and lowered his eyes. _Apparently, he can tell that's obviously not true. _"Um…" He took a deep, shaky breath and sat down at the edge of the bed. "I…I have something to show you." Out of his pocket, Anthony pulled a folded white piece of paper with colored lines on the folded side. He handed it to me then placed his face into his hands.

Worried about his behavior, I slowly opened the paper, fold by fold. On the top was my full name and my patient number. Under this was a line graph with two lines; one, labeled 'average', was on a flat pane across the paper at the number 0.00. The other had my name under it and it declined slowly at first, but at today's date, it dropped intensely down to -4.56 and continued to drop until a red 'x' stopped it. "What does this mean?"

He looked at me with sorry eyes and a pale face. "Anthony," I lowered my head and narrowed my eyes. "Why are you showing me this? Tell me what this means."

"Abby, this is a graph concerning your ears. Now, I don't want to alarm~"

"Anthony!" I cut him off and rubbed my head. With a small, smug smile, I finished. "I'm not a baby, nor am I patient. Just tell me. Please just tell me."

After wiping a tear away, (_Wait, why is he crying?) _Anthony finally concluded. "This graph shows the amount of tolerant pressure in one's ears. As you can see this line shows the amount a normal ear has, and this line, which represents you, is way below average. A part of your brain that is connected to your ears was affected during the car wreck and when you hit your head against that rock. It's way too complicated to explain, so I'm going to use regular vocabulary. If this part of your brain doesn't get fixed, it will cause bleeding inside you which will…" He gulped. "Kill you."

A vacuum sucked up all the air inside of me and for a second I couldn't breathe. Eventually I caught back my breath and forced myself to reconcile. "Ok, so let's do it. If that's the only problem, why the long face, Anthony? As long as it is fixed, what's the problem?"

Anthony's mouth hung open in disbelief. "Abby, you don't get what I'm trying to say?"

I shook my head 'no' and leaned forward for him to continue.

"Abby," Anthony paused while shaking his head slowly from side to side in incredulity. "This part of the brain that is 'broken' is the pathway of sound wave from your ears to your brain. If you go through this surgery, it will close off the part of the brain. If you go through this surgery, you will become deaf."

**Anthony's Point of View**

I held my breath for the explosion and my fingers curled and shook. When Abby didn't respond, I looked up with the corner of my eyes. She was looking into the corner of the room with her eyes wide and brows scrunched together. With the same expression, Abby turned to me. "This isn't funny, Anthony."

"Wha~?" I began.

"Stop it!" She yelled and slammed her hands on the end of the bed. "Stop playing stupid, right now! It wasn't funny! Take back what you said, Anthony! And tell me the truth!"

"It…it is the~." I mumbled, but once again she cut me off.

"WHAT?" Abigail screamed, annoyed about my mumbling. But I knew, deep inside, she wasn't just mad I mumbled. From the look in her eyes, I could tell Abby knew I was already telling the truth.

"IT'S THE TRUTH, ABIGAIL!" I exploded and stood off the bed. After I yelled, however, I calmed myself down and felt sudden remorse. I slowly turned to face her. "I'm not lying to you. It's true."

Tears welled in her eyes. She blankly stared back at me, and I swear one could have heard a pin drop. "No…"

As the tears began to fall, I walked back over and leaned in for a hug. "Oh, Abby…It's all going to be alright, I promise. Sometimes~."

"NO!"

Right as I hug her, Abby used all her might to push me off; so hard, I was forced to back-pedaled on my feet. I stared at her in disbelief. "Abigail Brooke." I breathed.

If I got any closer, her fiery eyes would have set me on fire. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Everything is NOT going to be alright. For YOU maybe. For IAN maybe. But not for me! I didn't ask for any of this to happen! I didn't ASK to get pulled from my home and moved to another orphanage. I didn't ASK to intrude on your life. I didn't ASK for all of us to be kidnapped and for me to be raped! And I know you thought this was ALL my idea, but trust me. If I knew I was either going to die or go deaf, I REALLY would have reconsidered!" Her sarcasm could have burned a whole through your head. She stopped as she panted for air.

_I forgot what I had said to her in the car. _"Oh…yeah. That."

She laughed bitterly. "Ha! 'Oh…yeah. That.' Not really surprised I had to remind you of 'that'. I'm sure for you it went right into one ear and out the next. You proved right then and there that you haven't cared for me once since I got here; why should you care if you said such a terrible thing to the troubled orphan forced upon you?"

My face turned red with anger. "How dare you say that! Ian and I opened our home to you ever since you got here! Yes, I made a mistake, but give me a break! I had a lot on my mind! Stop playing the 'poor me' card and get over it!"

"Get over what?" Abby ripped off her sheets and placed her shaking feet onto the floor. Her knees buckled under her, but Abby ignored it as she barked right in front of me. "The fact you admittedly hate me? Well, guess what, Anthony! The feelings mutual! It's obvious to both of us we hate this situation! JUST LET THE EAR PROBLEM FUCKING KILL ME AND WE'LL BOTH BE OUT OF OUR MISERY!"

"YOU BETTER STOP TALKING TO ME LIKE THAT! I'M THE ADULT HERE, AND YOU SHOULD TREAT ME WITH RESPECT!"

"Well, you know how I feel about that, Mr. Adult?" An evil smirk grew on her face as she lifted her hand right to my face and curled all her fingers except the middle. "Go to Hell, bastard."

Then lightning struck me. Or, so it seemed. Before I could catch myself, my hand lifted and whipped through the air to strike my sister's face. With the blink of an eye, I was back into my own body to see what I had done. Abby curled into a ball on the ground, gripping her face, while I stepped backwards and looked at my hands in shock. All the anger and stress that filled my veins poured out like syrup, leaving me with a terrible taste in my mouth and a beaten sister on the floor. _Oh my god. What have I done…?_

Tears filled my own eyes as I gradually made my way to the floor next to Abby. Now, she was crying silently with her shoulders shaking. Gently, I placed one hand on her shoulder and the other to her cheek. To my surprise, she did not pull away or run. Abby simply shot her eyes up to mine, and pulled me into a giant hug. I quickly returned it and let tears fall as well. "Oh my god." I whispered into her ear. "I'm…so sorry, Abby. There's no way you can forgive me for that. I won't let you, never~."

Abby shushed me and squeezed me tighter. "Don't. It happened because of what I did. What we both did. We said things neither of us meant…right?"

I pulled away and rubbed her red cheek. "Right. I'm so sorry, Abigail." I kissed her forehead and carried her like a child back to her bed. We both laid there and I started to stroke her hair.

With her face in my chest, Abby took a deep breath. "I love you, Anthony."

I smiled down at her. "I love you too, Abby. Very, very much."

"I just…I don't know if I can go through with this. To not hear your voice or Ian's…or anyone's ever again. And to not hear music…Anthony, I don't think I'll ever be able to dance again."

We met sad eyes. _I don't think so, either. _When I didn't respond, she took the hint. For at least thirty minutes, both of us laid on her bed silent. It wasn't until my phone went off for an email alert that I started to move again. When I opened my message, I was annoyed to see it was just a spam message from a website I signed up for a while ago when I went to see my friend Mari's dance recital. Before I deleted it, something caught my eye. In the description of the email was 'Hearing people might wonder how a group of twenty-one deaf people could perform…'.

I abruptly sat up, which caught Abby by surprise. I clicked on the link and it brought me to an article on a website. The title was 'Spotlight On - Deaf Achievement - Chinese Deaf Dance Troupe'.***** My eyes scanned the paragraphs, and with my growing excitement, moved quicker each word. Thrilled, I practically threw the phone to Abby. She was skeptical at first, but as she started reading, her eyes filled with joy. Her trembling lips curved to a smile and she looked at me. "I could still dance." As happy as she was, I nodded and kissed her on the forehead.

When we both laid back down, I looked down to see Abby was on YouTube on my phone and in the search bar, she typed in 'Smosh'. I asked Abby what she was doing, and she said she was determined to use her remaining hearing hours to the fullest. So we watched one Smosh episode.

And then another.

And then another.

For at least two hours, we laughed together for the first time in what seemed like a year, watching stupid and hilarious videos on after another. As one video finished, however, something caught her eye. A video in the related section was title 'Fix You – Coldplay lyrics'.

"This is one of my favorite songs." She whispered as it loaded. Right on the first lyric, the emotions of the song filled the room.

_And the tears come streaming down your face_

_When you lose something you can't replace_

_When you love someone but it goes to waste_

_Could it be worse?_

"Ironic, isn't it, Anthony?" Abby chuckled humorously. "To think this song matches the situation perfectly and it's the last time I'll ever hear it." It was ironic. _Irony really is a bitch…_

When the song ended, the first on the related list was 'How to Save a Life' by The Fray.

_Step one you say we need to talk_

_He walks you say sit down it's just a talk_

_He smiles politely back at you_

_You stare politely right on through_

_Some sort of window to your right_

_As he goes left and you stay right_  
_Between the lines of fear and blame  
_

_You begin to wonder why you came_

"Even worse." We whispered simultaneously. As both of us sat there in the cold, dead hospital room with The Fray blasting through the iPhone's tiny speakers, the only thing we could do was let the words sink in. When the song ended, I simply placed it on repeat. And once again, both of our life stories were spoken through song.

Our daydreams were broken into nightmares when a group of doctors and nurses walked through the door 45 minutes later. Abby and I sat up and I checked my phone. The song repeated 10 full times. "Are you ready, Ms. Abigail?"

Instead of responding, Abby looked straight up at me. I closed my eyes and nodded my head. "Yes, Abby. You are."

* * *

That was the longest four hours of my entire existence. I waited with Ian in his room, where he had his leg suspended off the bed in a cast. We made polite conversation with each other, but the back of my mind was racing with questions. _Why is this taking so long? Is she okay? What if this doesn't work? What if~?_

"Dude!" Ian snapped me out of my daydream. "You okay?"

And for the first time, when he asked me that, I shook my head 'no'. "I know, Anthony. I know you're worried. But she's in great hands, okay?"

"Mr. Padilla?"

Our eyes turned to a middle-aged lady that knocked and entered the room. She held a clipboard to her chest and looked as if she had been working double shifts. "Yes?"

"Ms. Abigail's operation has just finished. Since she is back in her hospital room, would you like to see her?" I sprang off the bed, gave Ian a quick hug, told him to get better, and sped-walked with the nurse, who had to slightly jog to keep up. Once I reached the room, cold feet came over me. _What do I do? What do I say? What's ABBY going to do? _

The nurse behind me, who apparently had better things to do than wait for me to get a grip, pushed passed me and opened the door. I leaned my head in and glanced around the familiar room. Doctors glided passed me, making casual conversation to one another as they entered yet another patients room to start the process all over again.

Abby was sleepy-eyed on the cot. She yawned and glanced around the room to notice what the rest of the nurses were doing. When one dropped a platter onto the floor, a loud crash echoed throughout the room. But when I looked at Abby and saw her stare blankly at the platter, unfazed by the sound it created, I knew it had been done. Her world was silenced.

When I walked into the room, Abby's eyes lost interest of the silent platter and shot to me. She didn't smile, nor did move an inch. Abby just stared at me in astonishment, our eyes exchanging the look, 'How could this ever happen?' Once I sat down in the chair next to the bed, I reached for her hand that was buried underneath the blankets. With my other hand, I saluted her, placing my straight hand on my forehead and waving it down. The ASL sign of 'hello'.

And as overwhelming feelings passed through both of us, Abby's shaky, remaining hand reached up to her forehead, and returned the gesture.

* * *

*** ~ True story! It's really, really awesome, those people are amazing! Read the article if you get a chance, it's incredible! (GRRR I can't attach the URL! Go to Google though and type in the title. You should find it easily :D)**

**Yeah...SOME OF YOU POOFS CALLED IT! Just kidding, but some of you guys did call her going deaf, and I must tip my hat to you! Great job!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Anthony's Point of View**

**********One Month later***********

"It was the Allstar system?"

"Yes sir," Jeremy, the sheriff that was dealing with our case discussed through the phone. "It looks like when your car crashed, the Allstar system activated. As the suspects carried you away, they muttered to each other their plans. Because the system was on, it sent their conversation over to an agent on the other side of the phone. The frightened first-day-of-the-job girl called 9-1-1 and told them everything. We then contacted the officers heading to the South side of LA and passed along the message."

"That's how they found us!" I whispered energetically.

"Exactly, a crazy coincidence, I know. Anyway, that's all the info we have right now, Mr. Padilla. Unfortunately, we are still following leads at this point and haven't found a true track to follow to catch the suspects, but we assure you we are doing everything we can."

I rolled my eyes. _SURE you are. _"I understand," I lied. "Thank you, Jeremy." As I hung up, I heard the most unwanted and recognizable 'ding' insinuating my phone was low on battery. Frustrated with myself for not charging it last night, I reluctantly finished the video of Abby dancing and put it back into my pocket. My stomach was twisted into a knot and my palms were sweaty. I looked over the railing of the viewing balcony to try and read Madame Colette's expression. She bit the inside of her lip and sighed heavily. With a disappointed click, Madame shut off the classical music Abigail was dancing to. Of course, Abigail kept going, not noticing the muted music she could no longer hear.

It wasn't until her interpreter waved her hand to get Abby's attention did she stop. Madame said the same thing she had for the past hour while the interpreter signed. "Your artistry is as perfect as always and your technique is a spot-on as ever. But you're not with the music."

Simultaneously, Abby and I slapped our foreheads and grunted. Abby was angry and frustrated with herself while I was sick and tired of the situation.

It was a week after Abigail was released from the hospital. For three weeks, she was cooped up in that tiny hospital room, constantly monitored by doctors to make sure the surgery was a success. In my opinion, it was obvious it was. Abby was completely deaf in each ear the minute the doctors finished the operation and was appointed an interpreter immediately. Being the sweet girl she is, Abby was polite to Sarah, but I could tell Abigail did not want her around as a constant reminder of her new disability.

Ian and I visited her daily, which made her mood spew upwards instantaneously. Ian, who didn't know any sign language, spent most of his time with his nose in an ASL guide while Abby and I were able to communicate quite easily.

I didn't mention it, but I missed her voice terribly. Although she wasn't mute, talking seemed pointless to her because Abby couldn't tell if she was actually speaking or just mumbling gibberish. Day by day we dealt with little problems one at a time, and eventually the doctors finished their multiple tests and released her.

That was only yesterday. All she wanted to do was get back into the studio and dance again. But now, with all the frustration and dissatisfaction in the air, I wished I never brought her.

Madame Colette told her to get a drink of water and to excuse her for a moment. She then looked up at the balcony and fingered me down. _Oh god. What does she have to tell me…_

I met up with her in the hallway outside the studio. She had a small smile that was only there by force. "I've tried everything I could think of. Having her simply dance by the beat of the music, following a conductor, but nothing is working. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do."

My heart dropped and sped up. "But…but those dancers in China~"

"~There's a reason why the company is world-famous," Madame sighed. "All of those dancers were born deaf and learned to dance solely to the beat, and are the only ones in the world that are able to. They are…one of a kind."

"But~!"

"~I'm sorry, Mr. Padilla." Madame turned and walked down the hallway, leaving me standing there like an idiot and speechless. After she opened the door to her office, she didn't meet my eyes and said, "I tried, Anthony. I really did."

The door to the studio next to me opened. _Oh no. Abby. How do I tell her this?_

She walked out with her bag thrown across her shoulders, sweater pulled over her leotard, and her long hair pulled out of a bun. Her face emotionless, she signed. "Ready to go?"

"Wait," I returned. "Do…do you know?"

"I saw the entire conversation through the window. Did I mention I can read lips?" Abby walked passed me and headed to the car. Her interpreter followed but I stopped her and said she could take the rest of the day off. She smiled and walked out, and I followed.

* * *

The ride back to the WCMEC was a long and silent one. Abby didn't move an inch the entire way; instead she stared straight ahead, eyes blank and lips pursed. I wasn't able to speak to her, having my hands on the wheel. And in all honesty, even if I could, I wouldn't know what to say.

That's why I knew I was screwed when we pulled into the parking lot of the building. I put the car into park and leaned back into my seat. I gathered my thoughts, drew a deep breath, and turned to my side. My hands were up and I waved my hand to get her attention, but stopped suddenly. Abby had her head down and was shaking it slowly. With no warning, she already knew what I was going to say. 'You'll get it eventually,' 'We'll find another studio,' 'Don't give up hope,'. They all sounded forced and untrue.

Abby was right. All of them were bullshit.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that trouble, Anthony." Abby looked up with sad eyes and signed with shaky hands. I grinned sadly and gripped her trembling hands. With my remaining hand, I signed what I must have said a hundred times in the last month. "It'll all be okay."

Together, we walked into the building and headed to her bunk so she could change. As we were walking there, however, a hand brushed me on the shoulder. I turned to see Mr. Samuels from what seemed like forever ago. "Oh! Um…Hi, sir. How are you?" I shook his hand with the hand I had placed on Abby's shoulder. She noticed it move away and turned around as well.

"Unfortunately, I have more of a reason to get your attention that just to catch up. I need to talk to the both of you," he motioned toward an empty room to his left. After an awkward cough, he continued. "Um...in private."

Before we answered, Mr. Samuels spun around sharply and strode into the room. Abby and I exchanged confused glances, but shrugged and followed him. In the room, two more people awaited us. One was sitting, nonchalantly, on a large desk wearing a dark suit and messing around on his iPhone. The other was staring us down with angry eyes in the corner of the room and wore a cheesy, fake smile. Her dress involved a khaki skirt and navy shirt, complete with name tag. I squinted my eyes to see what it read 'WCMEC Counselor: Charlotte'.

_Oh shit. It IS her._

_"_Ah, Mr. Padilla, Ms. Brooke. Please take a seat." The man in the suit put the phone back into his pocket and sat behind the desk, offering us two seats in front. I leaned over to Abigail to interpret what he said, but she waved me off. I asked her what she meant, and she simply pointed to her lips. I nodded, understanding she meant she lip-read what he said, and ushered her over to a chair next to mine.

"You both may be wondering who I am and why I called you here." I refrained from replying, 'No shit, Sherlock...'. Instead, I nodded and shifted in my seat. "My name is Joshua Marks. I'm the head supervisor here for the missing and exploited children affairs**. **I hear many cases of irregular adoptions and guardian-matches, but I must say, your story takes the cake!" I looked to Abby and she looked to me and we smiled shyly.

"I know your story, but I know the other story as well." My smile faded. "Yes, it was quite an adventure you two endured. I'm sure you both are sick of the subject, but there are some things we still need to figure out. Firstly, I assume you both know the men that did this to you have not been caught yet."

Sadly, we both nodded.

He coughed. "Yes, well...I also assume you both have heard of witness protection?"

I couldn't help but let a small laugh out. "Yeah, we have, but come on! You've got to be joking! We don't need to~!"

"~You don't," He said calmly. "But she does."

Both our eyes grew wide. "Why...why her?"

"She is still a minor, and being so, she falls under the rule of 'Child Protection' clause. It states, 'if a minor, meaning a man or women under the age of 18, falls victim to a major crime, he or she must be placed in a witness protection care until the suspect of the crime has been taken into custody.'"

_I'm starting to be really sick of all these clauses..._ "I've never heard of that before!" I exclaimed. "It's absurd!"

"It may be, but I'm afraid it's mandatory." Joshua Marks frowned.

I sighed and gave up. "Fine. I guess we both could deal with a 'mini-vacation' for a bit." I perked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Not you, Mr. Padilla. Her."

"You can't just waltz her away. I'm her guardian, Mr. Marks." I demanded, standing my ground.

From the other side of the room, Mr. Samuels spoke with a sad and guilty voice. "You might not be anymore."

My heart beat faster. "What...what do you mean?"

From behind us, Charlotte cleared her throat to catch attention. We all turned to her. "We mean it may be best for Ms. Abigail to send her into foster care for a while until the suspect is caught. She needs to be away from California into a more...stable and safe environment."

"What, you mean I'm an unfit guardian?" I huffed.

"Yes." Charlotte's eyes burned a hole in the back of my head and her evil smile grew.

Mr. Samuels rubbed his temples. "Mr. Padilla, it's just that...we realize now that this~" he motioned back and forth between Abby and me. "~was a mistake, and we're sorry for that. We figured~"

"~But it's fine now!" I interrupted. My palms began to sweat and shake. "We're happy now together." She nodded vigorously in agreement.

"That may be so," he closed his eyes to control his frustration. "But we need to do what's in the best interest and safety of Ms. Abigail. Sending her away from California and...well...you...was the best thing we can do."

"I'm her guardian now! You can't change that! And just WHO persuaded you that it was?" The chair I was sitting in was now laying face down on the floor. My chest harshly rose and fell.

Charlotte strode right in front of me. "I did." She rose her eyebrows for a challenge; 'what are you going to do?'

"I-it's just a possibility. It's not official yet. Tomorrow night at 7:00, the rest of the board will be here to make the final decision. We ask both of you to attend that meeting so we can have this problem solved once and for all." Without another word, Mr. Samuels, with his head hung low, walked out of the room, softly grasping Abby by the hand. "Please come with me, Ms. Brooke."

"What, why?" I thrust my arm out to stop him. "Can't we just spend the rest of the day together?"

"I'm..." Mr. Samuels looked to Mr. Marks and Charlotte for the answer. Simultaneously, they both shook their heads 'no' harshly. "...afraid that's a no. Come on, Abigail." As Abby sulked and followed behind, I saw her peek over her shoulder to me. She lifted her remaining hand and opened her mouth to say something, but she was hidden behind a closed door before she had the chance to say it.

Furious (and I must admit, scared), I spun around on my foot and faced Charlotte. "What's your problem, Charlotte? This is your ENTIRE fault!"

She laughed, which ended in an unattractive snort. "MY fault? Did you not forget you completely ditched me at that Starbucks? That you completely HUMILIATED me in front of everyone here?" Mr. Marks, who sat quietly behind the desk, coughed awkwardly, and, obviously knowing this was not his place, strode with a hop in his step out of the room.

Charlotte, embarrassed by her display of emotions, quieted her voice. "Listen, you can play the 'victim card' as long as you want, but there's one thing you need to learn and fast: You brought this on yourself, Padilla. Karma's a bitch." With that, she pulled away from in front of my face and began to walk away. But she came back a second later with a soft smile. She leaned in and stroked my cheek kissed me lightly. She then finished by taking her back hand and striking the same cheek. I cried out and gripped it with both hands.

"God, you bitch!" my yelling voice was muffled through my wrists and hands.

"Damn straight." The faint sound of her voice echoed through the hallways.

I straightened myself out and shook it off, head now on the actual problem. Everything buzzed around in my head, stinging the worst parts. One thing planted at the back of my head and I couldn't shake it out. _I've got to fix this. _And, God, was it true...

* * *

**Dean's Point of View**

Each car that passed me on the hidden 85 Freeway blew the cold night air onto my bare arms. I shivered, blowing warm air to my freezing fingers, mainly my thumb that had been pointed up for more than an hour. As yet another truck passed me with no interest; I gave up on hitching a ride. I was taking this journey on foot.

Once again, I rubbed my eye to make it heal, which, ironically, made my black eye hurt more. The memories poured back with every stinging pain.

There we were, all five of us, standing in front of the desk belonging to Alexis Matthews, our boss and the head of this and many different meth labs in LA.

"So," he placed his feet onto the desk and lit a cigarette. "You let them get away. Two wimpy 20-somethings and a little girl." I waited for the chuckle at our failure, but it never came.

"No, sir, we didn't!" Greg, who shook next to me, pointed out. "We left them there, and then~"

_BANG! _The energy of the bullet plunged into Greg's chest and he flew backwards, dead, onto the floor. I gulped and basically peed my pants. "I don't allow mistakes, you all know that." Alexis Matthews blew onto the gun chamber's smoke. "But Greg here made two, speaking out of turn and stealing my thunder of the conversation, and I certainly didn't approve. Anyone else want to try?"

All of us stared wide eye at the gun and slowly shook our heads.

"Perfect! So, you bastards left the only people in the entire world that know about our illegal activities in a forest. They were unfortunately rescued and now our whole operation is in jeopardy. Do you enjoy seeing my employees spend day and night packing up all machines to move down to San Diego? Do you enjoy being on the run? Do you enjoy putting MY reputation, my LIFE at stake?" It was no surprise when no answer came.

"Well, thankfully," Alexis Matthews finished. "MY name isn't known quite yet; yours are. So, with no regret do I say you all need to get the hell out of my labs. I would love to kill every single one of you for what you did, but I don't need any more blood on my hands, and frankly, I just have enough to deal with right now. Get out of my sight before I change my mind." After a few more persuasive punches to get a move on, I was on my own once again. I was able to hitch a ride with some of the other guys to I-33, but they threw me out not too long after. Eventually making my way to the tree-covered Freeway of what must have been Sacramento with a stop-and-go of hitch-hiking and walking on the side of the road, hoping to maybe find somewhere to go.

My eye stung again, bringing me back to reality. I continued, stepping into water as I went. The cold sent shivers back up my spine. I silently cursed California for its random cold sprigs. _At least, soon enough, I'll be out of here for good. But first, I need to GET out of here… _And once again, I stuck my thumb into the air.


	16. Chapter 16

**Abigail's Point of View**

I didn't remember the embassy being so dead. It was possibly because I was finally back after spending a month in a crowded, cooped-up, and boisterous hospital; I wasn't used to still. Maybe I hadn't gotten used to deafness yet; I wasn't able to 'sense' around as well as a naturally deaf person.

I was also sitting on the tiled floor of the bathroom at 4:00 in the morning. Maybe that was it.

Sleeping was... a joke. In a sense, I was afraid to sleep; what if I slept through the entire day and this whole problem (being forced back into foster care, being moved again, away from someone ELSE I loved) was solved without me? Even if I tried to sleep, thousands of patronizing thoughts popped into my head every time my eyes closed. _How could they send me away again? They said themselves it was a mistake! Aren't you supposed to learn from them?! And I've already been in foster care before; I've paid my dues! _

_I'm sick of...everything. I hate being an orphan, more now than ever; I hate being used, pushed around anywhere when I'm not needed or wanted. I've lived like this my entire life. Right now I wish more than anything to pick up my things and run off. I couldn't go back to New York; what do I have left there? I can't dance anymore. There's no reason to go back. Starting completely over was the only option. _

I shook the thought out of my head, splashing water on my face to calm myself down. _I couldn't run away...could I? Where would I go? _

Rubbing my head, I tried to get the thoughts out. I needed someone to talk to. I needed Anthony. Of course, he would never let me run, but he would set me straight, give me some direction.

I finally changed out of my dance clothes and into my polka dot blue dress I had worn the first day I came to California; it was the one dress I wore if I needed some stroke of luck. Before I left, however, I tip-toed into the main hall, where only a faint light was lit at the main desk. Thankfully no one was there to see me sign out that I was in Anthony's custody and wrote a phony time onto the computer's database. If for some reason I wasn't going to return by the morning, they would be furious at the both of us, but at least they would know where I was.

Escaping out the bathroom window, I entered the cold winter. A shiver shot down my spine; these cold Californian nights were killer. To my right was a bicycle, donated by a charity for the kids. Calculating the distance to Anthony's house in my head, I remembered it took about ten minutes by car; in about thirty minutes, I would arrive at their house, unknowing how they would react to my sudden visit.

The deep-dyed blue sky was almost covered by dark clouds. The moon shined through them, reflecting an eerie feeling across the quiet roads. A few cars passed, but eventually they stopped, the sleepy-eyed passengers filing home. My forehead dripped with sweat as my legs pumped on the pedals of the road bike. Something else soaked my scalp. I looked up to see drops of rain falling from the sky, soon turning into a cascade of water. Fear of flying onto the road, I quickened my speed on the wet road. Unknowing of the skidding wheels, the handlebars under my hands jolted from left to right, tossing me over the bars. I bounced along the pavement, scraping both knees and hands to stop. Cursing myself at my clumsiness, I wiped off my knees and stumbled back to the lost bike.

Something in the air felt thinner, however. It shortened my breath and made me uncomfortable. I felt watched.

I spun around on my toes. A man ran up to me, obviously seeing if I was alright. As he jogged over, something about his steps seemed terribly familiar. As his body shape formed, I automatically noticed the height and body shape. He was shorter and stocky, giving a more of a hop as he ran. Once his face was emitted through the rain by the moonlight, I knew. It was the man. The man from the night we were all taken. He was here, and he found me.

* * *

**Dean's Point of View**

I checked the time on my watch: 4:15 A.M. I had been going at this for hours at a time. The cars that blew cold wind on my face stopped coming. Good for my chills, bad for my aching legs. _Screw it. _Giving up for the night, praying tomorrow would be a better day, I plopped myself on the concrete with drops of rain falling on my head. _And to make matters worse, _I quoted. _It started to rain._

Through my muttering and mumbles, I could hear a slight whispering in the distance. I straightened my back, suddenly at alert. The whispering came closer, but the sound was no longer a whisper. It sounded more like a whishing of bicycle spikes. I turned to my right to see a bike riding straight to me. In a reflex, I pulled up the hood of my sweatshirt to hide my face. I sprang up and ran to the edge of the concrete where a dense forest began. Behind a tree, I peeked my head around to watch the rider go by. Before they did, however, the rain on the ground slicked the wheels, causing the girl (I guessed by the long, flowing hair) to fly over the handlebars, catching herself by her hands.

Without thinking, I jumped from behind the tree and jogged to help her. At the moment, I wasn't thinking about hiding my identity in case she recognized me, nor did I wait to see if she was alright herself, which she was. As she walked back to the bike, I landed on the concrete. My steps made her stop and cringe. As she turned around and we met eyes, my heart skipped a beat and my stomach jumped to my throat. I could feel my mouth drop and my face turn pale as I looked at the girl from that night, standing right in front of me.

Before I could even speak, the girl took off into the forest. Automatically, I sprinted after her. _She recognized me. She's going to tell someone I was here. And... I don't even want to think what will happen afterwards. I have to stop her. I don't know how, but I must._

She sprinted for minutes and minutes. I panted after her (could I keep up with her stamina?). Just when I thought I lost her, I leaped around a tree and saw the girl blocked by a large river that rushed and rose with the pouring rain. We were both soaked from head to toe, her long hair glued to her forehead. She glanced around, petrified for any place to flee, but I blocked her every path. _Now's my chance to reason with her. _"Girl," I panted while bracing my hands in front. "I don't want to hurt you." She didn't believe me; she just stared, wide-eyed at me, obviously thinking I was going to kill her to keep her quiet.

"I promise I don't. I wasn't stalking you or anything. We just ran into each other, that's all. We can both just...walk away and pretend this never happened." She slowly shook her head no while tapping her thumb to her middle and index fingers. _What is that for? _I pondered. _Isn't that sign language or something? _"What are you doing? You're not deaf."

The girl scrunched her eyes and nodded. She pointed to her ears and then to me. "What?" I asked, confused.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm...deaf...because...of...you." Her voice changed since the last time I heard her speak. It was flat and lowered, and sounded like she struggled with saying the words.

"What do you mean?"

Her eyes grew fiery with anger and they blazed at me. "Because of what you did," her shaky hand raised an index finger to my face. "Tossing me over the side of a steep hill, my head collided with a rock. My hearing was taken away from me."

"B-but that wasn't me!" I pleaded, trying to calm her down. "That was someone else!"

"No, it wasn't!" The girl screamed as she came closer, her voice echoing throughout the abandoned forest. "You...your group...kidnapped the three of us for no reason~!"

"~A misunderstanding!" I interjected.

"Doesn't matter! None of us can live a regular life now because of what you did!"

"Neither can we! You think I WANTED to be involved with that?! You think I WANTED to be involved with the drugs and everything?!"

That did it. I hit a nerve. The girl exploded with fury coming at me in full force. I could see her begin to cry with angry and devastated tears. "YOU WANT TO PLAY THAT CARD?! FINE! YOU THINK I _WANTED_ IT EITHER?! I HAD A CAREER! I HAD A LIFE AHEAD OF ME! DID YOU KNOW I DANCED?! DID YOU KNOW I WAS GREAT AND IT WAS THE _ONLY_ THING I HAD?!" She took a heavy, blind swing with her right arm at me. I dodged it by only inches. "WELL, I CAN'T DANCE NOW, CAN I?! BUT, OH NO! THAT'S NOT THE ONLY THINK YOU RUINED! I FINALLY HAD A FAMILY AFTER 15 YEARS! _YEARS!_ BUT THANKS TO YOU, I'M BEING MOVED, ONCE AGAIN, TO FOSTER CARE BECAUSE CALIFORNIA 'ISN'T SAFE FOR ME ANYMORE'!"

The girl thrust her entire body onto mine. I shielded my face from her jabs. "You destroyed everything of mine and of the people I love! I hate you for it! AND I'LL KILL YOU FOR IT!" With her legs wrapped around my torso, she gripped my neck with both her hands and strangled me. Gasping for air, my body reacted in protection. With one hand, I pried her off by her cheek. I forced her off with pure adrenaline, more than I thought I encompassed. The girl flew through the air and fell towards the river.

It all happened so fast.

Before I could help, I saw and heard her head collide with incredible force on a large rock on the bank. Her screams silenced as she fell, unconscious, into the fast-paced white water.

Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes like hours. I waited for what seemed like forever for her to climb back out, for her to be okay. But she never did. And in an instant, I knew.

She was dead.

My breathing quickened along with my heart. I began to hyperventilate as my eyes grew watery. I gripped onto my hair and climbed into fetal position. _I killed her...I killed her...I killed her. _As I rocked back and forth, I placed my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt. My fingers swiped passed something. I pulled out of my pockets a notepad with a pen stuck in the spiral of the book. My mind began to race of possibilities. One stuck out. _A suicide note_.

With incredible care not to get my fingerprints on it, I turned through the notebook to a page in the middle. Using leaves on the ground, I ripped a page out I was sure I hadn't touched. Remembering all she had complained and said, I carefully wrote in my best 'girl-handwriting' a note claiming she had jumped in the river herself to die.

Once I finished, I folded the note between the two leaves I was holding. _Who should I address it to? Who would SHE address it to? _The man she was with the night...IT...happened. _What was his name? What was his name?! _A face popped into my head, followed by a name and a sudden flush of incredible guilt. _Anthony! That was it!_

I placed the folded note under a small rock to keep it from floating away. As I stood back up, something caught my eye; Right on the edge of the band was a small flip-flop the girl was wearing. I picked it up and placed it next to the note; a red herring that she jumped. Afterwards, I tossed the leaves I used into the river and watched them float away into the dark night. A physically painful twinge of guilt twisted my stomach. I gripped it and felt the guilt sink to the bottom. _I have to get out of here, _I could feel the anxiety creep up on me. _I'm going to be ill. _With a final look around, making sure all of the tracks I left here, linking me to the crime, were covered up, I saw the sun begin to rise in the distance. Fear crawling in my mind, I began to run away, and never stopped. Tears leaked from my cheeks as I thought, _I'm running. Again. Running is something I feel like I've been doing for an awfully long time._

* * *

**Anthony's Point of View**

Ian and I ate breakfast in silence. I told him the night before what had gone wrong, and conversation had been muted since. I glanced at the clock for the millionth time that morning. 10:43 A.M. 7:00 P.M. wouldn't come fast enough.

"Just go see her." Ian interrupted my thoughts. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"I don't know," I grumbled. "They made it pretty clear they didn't want me there."

"How?" Ian patronized. "Did they SAY so?"

"Well, not specifica~."

"~Then you should go!" He exclaimed. "Who gives a rat's ass? Even if they kick you out, it's not a big deal. It's not like it'll be the last time you ever step foot in there." Right as Ian said that, his face went pink. I frowned and looked at my empty bowl of cereal. Both of us knew it probably would be the last time I ever did. It would be the last time I ever see Abby.

"Oh, come on, Ant!" Ian pleaded while putting his dishes away. "Stop pouting! It'll all be ok." As I open my mouth to rebuttal, he held his hand out and stopped me. "I know that's not what you believe or what you want to hear, but it's true. Everything will be fine."

Ian headed down the hallway and threw a pair of jeans into my face. "Put on some pants, dumbass, and let's get out of here."

* * *

The cool air conditioning of the embassy felt crisp on my frying skin. _God, it was a hot day! Damn, Ian. Making me put on pants..._

The vibe at the embassy was a different story. The mood changed instantaneously as Ian and I entered. It went from cool and crisp to heavy and darkened. Workers shot us death glares from every direction. "What did we do?" Ian whispered from my left. "Walk through the wrong door or something?"

"Mr. Padilla," Mr. Samuels's voice called from down the hall. His tone was angry and frustrated, causing a chill to run up and down my spine. _Oh shit. What did I do?_... I cleared my throat. "Y-yes, sir?"

He stomped over to me, his shoes echoing through the halls. His glare burned a hole right through my skull. "I understand you were upset by what happened yesterday, but that was no reason for your behavior! It was completely immature and I am APPALLED by you action!"

I looked at him, confused. "I'm sorry, but...what are you talking about?"

"I'm in no mood for games, Padilla." His eyes clearly said so.

"I'm not playing any!" I cried, defensively. "What are you talking about?"

Mr. Samuels rolled his eyes and gave up. He ushered Ian and I over to the computer at the front desk. On the screen, the Sign-In/Sign-Out page was up. "Right here, you signed Abigail out at 9:28 this morning. At that time, no one was here at the desk because the receptionists were on their break. Clearly, you did not care as you entered the computer and signed her out without anyone knowing. You better be lucky this system is well-maintained or else~."

"Wait a second!" I interrupted, staring blankly at the screen. "I never signed her out."

"Aha!" He exclaimed. "So you never signed her out in the first place! You just pranced off with her without anyone~!"

"No!" I glared at his stupidity. "I never signed her out, therefore I never TOOK her out! Abby isn't with me! I didn't take her out this morning!"

"You...you didn't?" Mr. Samuels suddenly had a flush a pink on his cheeks, obviously embarrassed. I hid an eye roll. "So, if you didn't take her out, and she's not her, where is she?"

"She went out by herself." A meek little voice caught all out attention. We turned to see a small boy still in his pajamas, clutching a stuffed lion. "She didn't go to bed last night, so I looked around. I saw her leave the bathroom, where she was for a while, do something with the computer, and then go back to the bathroom. I think she left through the window in there."

A sigh of relief came from out circle. "Great," Ian chirped and faced the little boy. "Where is she now, dude?"

The boy shrugged. "I don't know; she left at around 4:00 A.M and never came back."

Color drained from my face. My eyes shot a panicked look to Ian as he did to me. We both glanced at Mr. Samuels who looked startled, as well. "She...she's fine, I'm sure. She might have gone for a walk or something." Ian and I jogged outside while Mr. Samuels followed shortly behind. "You see!" He pointed towards the bike rack. One was missing. "She must have gone for a bike ride. Ms. Abigail should be back anytime now, safe and sound."

"After riding a bike for over six hours?" I asked, sarcastically. The little hope in Mr. Samuels's voice was removed from my slap of reality.

"Right. We'd better start looking then, shall we?" Mr. Samuels's voice was flat and emotionless. He turned around and walked back to the building to call the police.

I barely had time to worry before Ian dragged me back to the car. We started to drive up and down the main road, looking for a clue as to where she went.

Images of the kidnappers' faces that were still at large popped in my head despite my attempt to stay calm. "Ian," I said, my voice cracking. "What if~?"

"~Don't think that!" Ian was on the same page as a drip of sweat crossed his brow. "It couldn't have possibly..." He never finished.

A gleam of metal caught my eye. I jumped and pointed to it, making Ian nearly drive off the road. In an instant, we were out of the car. Hidden in leaves was a light blue bicycle that matched the others at the embassy. The wheel was crooked and the chain broken off. "Oh my god, Ian..."

But when I looked at Ian, he was already on the phone with Mr. Samuels, telling him what we saw. I could hear him on the other line say the police were on the way to search-and-rescue. The pit at the bottom of my stomach enlarged. Fear dripping into my veins like a faucet. "Ian..."

"Don't think, just look!" Ian dragged my hand and we ran into the forest, calling Abby's name as loud as humanly possible.

And we continued for over an hour, each scream becoming more panicked than the one before. At last, an entire squad team was in on the look, Abby's name ringing for miles. About a quarter of a mile inward from the road, Ian and I reached a river bank that flowed as smoothly as I had ever seen. A man on the force who trailed the both of us caught eye of the river. Trying to not catch our attention, he whispered into his walkie-talkie, "41029, approached a river, quart. of a mile eastward. Quick drag across the bottom of a river as soon as possible." He handed Ian a spare walkie-talkie to keep in contact with.

"WHAT?!" I spun around and began to chase after the man as he ran back to his troop. Ian grabbed onto the tail of my shirt and pulled me backwards.

"It's just a precautionary, Anthony! Calm down! Please, you have to keep your head on! We all do!" Despite my rage and fear built up inside, I forced myself to nod and agree.

Ian and I continued to search among the river bank until we collided with the others. We noticed they surrounded something, talking in slightly lowered voices. In a sudden panic, I wriggled out of Ian's grip and pushed through the crowd. A man was on the ground with plastic gloves on holding a small note in his hand. He read it, passed it to a man beside him, and rubbed his temples. "Let me see it."

All the people looked up at me in fear. _What was it? _I feared. _What was it?! _I threw on plastic gloves and was handed the note. It was folded into two halves, the top reading 'Anthony'. My eyes weld into tears. _No..._

_Anthony~_

_This is it. I'm sorry; I don't mean to hurt anybody. I'm sorry _

_I put you and Ian and everyone through this terrible pain, _

_but I can't take this anymore. I'm sick of the silence; I want to_

_hear and dance again. I want to hear your voices again. I want to live _

_again. But I can't. I'm broken from that night; I will forever be violated _

_and scarred and I blame_ _myself. I feel guilty about it all and there's only _

_one way to fix it. I~_

"NO!" I threw the note out of my hands as if it was on fire. I tumbled onto the ground with my back falling onto Ian's knees, who buckled down with me. A detective quickly retrieved the note from the dirty ground and placed it into a clear, plastic bag reading 'Evidence'. The corner had 'Abigail Ansley Brooke, 4021658A' written in it, followed by a small box checked named 'Suicide/Accident'. As they took the note and a shoe which I immediately recognized as Abigail's away, I began to fight. "It can't be, it can't! She didn't kill herself, believe me, I know it! That...that's not even her handwriting!"

They all spun around. "It's not?" One detective said, pulling out a journal from his jacket pocket. "Do you have something to compare?"

"Well..." I turned to a ghost-white Ian, who shook his head at me with eyes staring at the cold ground. "No, but~."

But their attention was gone. With a simultaneous sigh, all policemen turned back around and headed back to their posts. Unable to accept what had happened, I stood up with shaky legs and grabbed onto Ian. "Ian, it's not true! It's not true! She didn't do it, I can feel it! She was stronger than that, remember? You believe me, don't you?!"

"Ant, I..." His lips were pursed and his eyes were still and glistening with tears. My mind raced. _We'll find her, they'll see! She's going to be just fine, like Ian said! In minutes, we'll find her and~_

"Oh my god," Ian's voice was almost inaudible. My eyes shot up to him and saw he was looking over my shoulder. My body shook as I slowly turned around to see. People crowded around again and spoke in hushed whispered. Heads hung low and still.

My mind no longer controlled my body. It sprang forward and sprinted towards the circle, pushing through the mass amount of people. Ian quickly followed me, trying to take me back into restraints. I reached the front and saw what everyone was staring at. A stretcher rose from the river bank with a large black bag covering a small body. And when I saw that blue polka-dotted dress peek out from under the bag, reality struck and the life I knew crumbled all around me as the girl, my sister who I loved, was dead.

My body lunged forward in a final cry. Arms encompassed my shoulders pulling me back. I slammed to the ground by my knees and cried out in emotional pain. I could feel Ian's hands grip my torso and pull me back. This time, I didn't resist. I threw my head onto Ian's shoulder, catching a glimpse of his face, reality-struck, pale, and silent tear-stained, and I began to cry hysterically in it. I lost all control of myself as my heart broke.

From the distance, I could hear the ambulance drive away along with policemen who finished their jobs. One man came up to Ian and asked if we wanted a ride home. Ian shook his head and said in a mono-toned and shocked voice that we were fine. At last, Ian and I were alone in the dense forest. Ian hugged me tight and hushed me, trying to keep himself calm and to comfort me. I cried for what seemed like hours. "She's gone, Ian." I cried through tears. "How can she be gone?! She had so much ahead...Why did she do it, Ian? WHY DID SHE DO IT?! How could she leave us?! How could she think we didn't love her more than the whole world?! I did... I did I did I did..."

Ian let out a sputtered sigh. He lost his control he gained for me and cried with me. "I don't know, Anthony, I don't know. I loved her too...So, so much...We both did, and she loved us too...I don't know why she did it...I don't know..."

A chill went through the air, catching our attention. This was a different wind, an especially cold one I had never felt before. We looked up as the trees shook their leaves, causing them to fall (or...almost dance) onto our heads. The water sped in one spot, which moved toward the edge of the river bank where Ian and I curled up. Suddenly, an immense wind collided with us, forcing our bodies to fall backwards onto the ground. A whisper filled with no words echoed in our ears as the wind passed. And then?

Silence.

Ian and I laid there next to each other, admiring and analyzing what had just happened. "Ian?" I asked with a hoarse voice. "What was that?...It wasn't...was it?"

But he nodded in the smallest amount. Ian stared at the sky with a twinkle in his eye. A sad, but calmed look sat upon his face. "It was." He concluded as one final tear fell onto one of the leaves that had fallen. A still index finger pointed passed the clouds and sun of the bright blue sky. "She's not gone, Ant. She's there."

* * *

**...*awkward silence*...**

**...Yeah...**

**Don't hate me :D I love you, don't hate me :D I know some of you really, really want to...**

**Sucky, right? I'm sorry if you hate it; trust me, it was even harder to write. There's a reason why I did...THAT...so please don't hate me, haha.**

**LOVEYOFACES!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Anthony's Point of View**

"Sherbet lemon."

The gargoyle in the center of the stairwell slowly rose to the ceiling as the stairs immersed from the floor, one step by step. Without thinking, I stepped up and spun around the musty, brown spiral until the office was revealed.

"Professor?" I called throughout the empty office. When no response came, I shrugged and entered his office, only to have the ends of my robes caught on the end of the steps. I tugged it and faced back to the center of the empty room. I noticed, however, a small disk with a thin layer of water in the center of the room.

Dumbledore placed his pensive***** out in the open. He knew I was coming; it was as if he wanted me to find it. I checked around the room to see if he was just around the corner, testing to make sure I wouldn't sneak around when he wasn't there. When I saw not sight of him, curiosity took over.

Overlooking the pensive, I saw with small strokes of black swimming inside; a memory was placed. One would have to place their face into the water to view it. Although I was curious, nosy I was not. When I tried to back away, I felt a soft but compelling hand on my shoulder. My body tensed; I was caught! I spun around with a guilty look on my face. My mouth was open to apologize to the individual and make an excuse, but no one was there. Instead, the force pushed me backwards into the pensive. As I tried to catch my balance on the sides of the disk, my legs tripped from under me and my face fell into the water.

Bubbles blew around my head as a picture formed from fuzzy dots. The picture was of two months ago; I stood, staring at the coffin being lowered into the ground. I had the sickening feeling that I was going to cry, but no tears came; I physically couldn't cry anymore. The priest finished his speech and closed the bible. "Forever and ever. Amen."

A mumble of 'amen's' came from the small crowd gathered for the funeral. Most said their final goodbyes and promptly left, leaving only a few remaining to mourn at the small grave site. Ian approached me from my left, his hand on my shoulder. "Hey, buddy."

"She was stronger than that. She didn't have to do it." My voice was hoarse and mono-toned.

"I thought she was, too." Ian breathed while looking up to the sky. "But sometimes...sometimes it gets to be too much."

I stared at the covered ground where the remaining workers placed her tombstone. Ian and I placed our final blue and yellow flowers onto the dirt. I broke the silence by messing through my pockets. When I took something out, Ian asked what it was.

"Her point shoes." I smiled softly as I reminisced. My index finger stroked smoothly along the small shoe and up the ribbons. I placed the shoes on the top of her tombstone and let the ribbons gently drape across the words etched in stone. "It's a family tradition," I explained. "Whenever someone passes away, another family member places one thing the person would want the most."

"Her point shoes? Why?" Ian questioned.

"So wherever she is, she can dance when she wants."

Ian squeezed my shoulder and rose from the ground. He went over to Melanie, who was sitting on one of the chairs in all black. I finished reading the gravestone one final time when Kalel came to my right. I felt her fingers intertwine with mine. She helped me stand to my feet and hugged me. "She's happier now." She whispered and pecked my cheek.

_Was she?_ _From my perspective, how could she possibly be?_

Pixels dispersed in front of my eyes as the picture changed again. When the picture formed this time, I was sitting with my knees to my chest in the kitchen. The only light on in the entire house was the chandelier that hung above where I shivered in my sweats. I lifted my head from my knees to see the time on my wristwatch. 4:07 A.M. One month after the funeral. _This scene is yesterday__. _Myself in present-time thought.

I was sweating furiously even though I was cold. I couldn't get the last words I said to her out of my head along with her face, her laugh, her...everything. It was a month afterwards; _shouldn't I be moving on already?_ I thought. _Why am I not able to forget her? I want to live again._

When I threw my head backwards in angst, it bumped into a handle. Finally out of my deep thought, I stood up and brushed myself off. Turning around to close the drawer, my eye caught something gleam in the low light. I peeked inside to see a long steak knife. Before I closed the drawer, a thought echoed in my head. _I want to live again. What if I...Could I live again?_

There was only one way to find out.

With one large swipe, I picked up the knife and cut straight across my wrist. I stiffened a cry and dropped the knife to the ground. As the metal banged on the tile floor, I clasped my wrist. The blood seeped through my fingers. I felt my face become pale and cold. My body fell forward and to the ground.

But it missed. As the picture changed for one final time, the floor spread apart as the pixels change the setting. I yelled as my body fell through thin air. The pixels began to form a new area. In an instant, I was sitting in a leather seat in Ian's car. The ride was silent along a forsaken, sandy road.

"I know you don't want to, Anthony."

Ian's hands gripped firmly on the steering wheel and his eyes were locked on the road as he carried on a conversation.

"What, Ian?" I asked, still confused about where we were, what we were talking about, and where we were going.

"It's just that I've been really worried about you for the past few weeks, and it wasn't until what you did yesterday did I realized something had to be done."

"What are you talking about?!" I leaned forward to grab his arm, but my hand fell straight through. _What the~!_

"~You can go on and on about how you don't want to see her, how you plan to simply forget. But by the looks of your wrist, it's not panning out that way." The car stopped with a jolt. In an instant, I was thrown out of the car by a magical source. I prepared for a hard and uncomfortable impact, but my back landed on a smooth and soft sand dune. "So, a little get-together was arragned. We all agreed it was the best thing to; a closure, of sorts."

Brushing off the sand, I stood back to my feet. "'We'? Who's 'we'? What 'closure'?"

"Well, good-bye!" As I had expected, Ian simply closed the passenger door and drove off, oblivious I responded. Throwing my hands to my face in frustration, I glanced around to see where I really was. I was stranded by my own friend on a large beach. The salty sea air filled my nostrils, calming me down. The sound of the collected ocean filtered the air, breathing to a rhythm of nature. Out of instinct, I pulled of my sandals and let the sand climb between my toes. _Now, to find out what's REALLY going on..._

There was only one other person on the entire beach. A lone chair edged the horizon, the back turned to me. I walked toward the person to ask..._What exactly? I guess I just don't want to be alone. _"Hello?" I called into the open. When the person didn't turn around, I began to run towards them, calling out 'hey's and 'you there!'

I was panting for air when I finally reached the lonesome chair. "Hey...you...where...where is this place? Why...are you and I...the only ones...here? Will someone explain to me...what the hell is going on?!"

"I'm not a pawn, Mr. Padilla. You can't shift me out of you mind without me having a say in it."

The tide stopped in mid-sway. The sea air stood still as it sucked away the little breath I had. Abigail Brooke stood up from the beach chair and looked up at me with shining brown eyes and a soft, happy smile. Her hair was down to her knees, curled and wavy in just the right places; the left side was tucked behind her ear, which was...working. Her skin was the perfect shade of olive and glowed with a flawless shine. All of her features had matured; even the way she stood and talked was at least one year older. She looked sixteen, seventeen maybe. Abby was mature, shining, happy, and perfect; even more so than before. But, she was also~

"~Dead...dead!" I muttered, drawing my eyes away and forcing myself to face reality. "You're dead, Abby! What are you doing here?! You're not supposed to be here! Get out of my mind, go away!"

When I didn't hear a response, however, I spun around, terrified she did as I told her and left. But she didn't. Abigail simply stood in the same place, her genuine smile not cracked. "Like I said, I'm not a pawn. You can't throw me out of your life without my permission." Her superlative laugh came, followed with a wink.

Emotions toiled around in my mind. Utter joy, sadness, confusion, and...anger. "What are you talking about, 'without my permission'?" I snarled. "You...you killed yourself, remember? 'Without permission'? Ha! You left me stranded! People keep telling me it was just too much for you, you couldn't take the pressure and change of becoming deaf or...or being kidnapped..or...or leaving New York, I don't know! I've gotten twenty different responses from people, but none of them fit."

The rage built up inside slowly faded away into the next emotion; sadness. "Because I thought you were stronger than that, Abby. I thought...having Ian and I...a home...was enough for you."

At last, the smile cast upon her face went missing. Her wavy, white clothing was dirtied by the sand when she plopped herself onto the sandy ground. Her hair seemed to shrink down her back as her arms sprawled across her knees. "I was." Abby stared into the sea that proceeded to grow and shrink. Her heavenly figure faded as our meeting changed from a reunion into an intervention.

"I'm...really, REALLY not supposed to talk about it." She mumbled, more to herself than to me. "But what's the worse they can do? Kick me out? On the other hand, I'll do the best I can without getting into any real trouble." Abby looked up at me and motioned to the ground next to her. I sat down and waited anxiously for what she had to say. "I was, am, stronger than that. Killing myself was never in the question for me. Sure I considered other options~" Suddenly my wrapped wrist stung. "~But never that. I know what happened, how you found out I was...you know. Everything was played out quite well, but it wasn't as it seemed."

"Then what was it!" I itched. "What really happened?"

Instead of an instant response, Abby took my hand into hers, which was as smooth as silk. "I can't tell you, Anthony. I'm sorry, but I made a promise if I came down here, I wouldn't reveal anything of that day. I need you to trust me; trust me that I know and knew right from wrong. You know me, Anthony. More than anyone else."

"So, why DID you come down?"

"Ian mentioned something about closure, right?"

I nodded. "But you're not giving me that, Abby? Can't you see that?"

"No," she answered, nonchalantly. "I believe I am. I think we needed one final time together to fix up the seams. We left each other without saying good-bye. Neither of us liked that, did we?"

I smiled sadly at her. She was right, this was what I needed. One final time to simply...talk.

"So, maybe just talking wasn't the only thing I came down for." Abby admitted, scratching her head in embarrassment.

"Can't say I'm surprised," I laughed. "What's on your mind?"

When she didn't return my smile, I knew this wasn't going to be good. With a swift motion, Abigail took the hand she was holding and held it up. I gulped when I realized it was the same hand I had cut. "Yeah, exactly." She rose one eyebrow.

"Anthony," she continued while placing it back down gently. "What is this about?" When I opened my mouth to lie and cover up, she stopped me. "Don't even think about making something up, mister. I see everything now."

"Okay, you caught me." I accepted my fate. "I was stressed, tired, and upset. And you can't blame me, can you?"

"You can't blame ME for coming all this way to make sure you don't do it again, can you?"

Finally, I shook my head 'no'. "They're all worried about you, Anthony. Ian, Kalel, everyone. It was time to put this to a stop. Like I said, you can't just shift me out of your mind. I existed, no doubt about it; there's no erasing that. Our memories will be implanted in both of our minds for forever and ever. Hurting yourself isn't going to change any of that. And it's definitely not going to bring me back to Earth. I may not be sitting right with you there, but you need to remember great people like Ian and Kalel are. They love you and want to help get the real Anthony back. I was here to make sure that happened.

"So, there isn't going to be anymore of this~" she pointed to the bandage. "~is there?"

I nodded with a relaxed sigh. "I think that's all I needed to hear." _Maybe I am going to be okay._

"Now!" Abigail clapped her hands together and changed the mood in the air on contact. "On a happier note, I also wanted to make sure I properly thanked you for these!" Out of thin air came the light pink point shoes that I draped across her grave.

"The shoes," I muttered, bewildered. I touched the ribbons that floated in the air to make sure they were real.

"Yup!" Abby perked. "It was one of the three things I got when I arrived."

"What three things?"

"When you get there," Abby simply pointed to the sky. "Three things that are most important to you are waiting when you step inside. Now, these aren't necessarily material things, or stuff you really like. For me, they were things that explained the 'why's' I always wondered. Well, two of them were. One of them was a 'what the heck do I do next?'

"The three things I got were Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, my favorite book as you know, the book Blue Genes, a book I didn't know about until I arrived, and these shoes." Just like the shoes, the two books popped out of nowhere and into Abigail's hands.

"Now, it took me a long time to piece together which each item meant. Blue Genes was an easy one. Have you ever wondered why there was an instant connection between us, even when we hadn't met before? One might think we simply recognized the physical similarities, which was true. But Paul Meier, the author, believes it was much more than that.

"You and I are more alike with each other than we are to anyone else in the word. We're biological; we share the same parent. We made that instant connection because that's exactly what we have; a connection, like no two people have. Despite both of us knowing absolutely nothing about the other, in a second we 'knew' each other." She placed Blue Genes down by her feet and picked up Harry Potter.

"This book here gave me both pleasure in reading and a great idea. When you made that silly mistake with the knife, enough was enough. I knew it was time we settled this once and for all. Therefore, I used J.K. Rowling's magnificent idea of a pensive to bring you here so we could talk. I planted two of your memories into the disk that connected with me and sent you along your way." Once again, Abby placed the book back down. "I also know you hate Harry Potter, so it was sort of a double whammy. What can I say?" She bumped me with your elbow. "I was pretty pissed at you."

"And the shoes?"

"Well," she blushed. "I must say, I haven't really figured that one out yet. My best guess is it symbolizes dance, something I've done my entire life. It may make me think; was dance something I really loved, or something I did that I was just good at? Did I do it because I had nothing else? And when I met you, did I really need it anymore? I mean, I finally had something ELSE to love."

"...Wow..." I simply said. "That's...really deep."

She giggled. "I've had some time to think. It's either that explanation, or maybe I just like to dance on point." She shrugged and tossed the shoes into thin air, and the pixels vanished before our eyes.

With that, the sky grumbled and parted slightly. "Well, that's my cue." Abby stood up and brushed the sand off.

"You really have to go?" I asked after I stood up, as well.

"For now," she meekly smiled. "All I can say, Padilla, is so long for now." Abby stuck out her hand for a shake. I shook her hand and pulled her in. I kissed her on the forehead.

"So long." Before I let go, I prepared for the tears to begin flowing after this final good-bye. But when I did, they didn't come. No sad feelings did. Only a happy smile was left on my face. A content one that planned to stay for a while.

Both of us turned in different directions, heading the ways we both came from. Before long, I heard, 'Hey, Anthony!' from behind me. When I turned around, Abby was ankle deep in seawater, lurched over with her hand scooped. "I just wanted to say," she finished. "Hold your breath."

In the blink of an eye, cold and salty water was splashed into my face, followed by lukewarm and smooth water. When I reopened my eyes, I saw I was back in Professor Dumbledore's office, my face drenched with water from the pensive. From behind me, I heard, "Anthony?" and felt a soft hand drop on my shoulder.

When I blinked my eyes again, the illusion was gone.

Or, should I say, the dream ended.

Sunshine shown through the blinds of my bedroom. Ian hovered over me in a worried look. "Ian?" I mumbled, putting my hand to my head. It was soaking wet from, not water, but sweat.

"Are you alright, dude?" He asked, looking at my drenched clothes. "You're soaking wet. Did you have a nightmare?"

I couldn't help but grin. "No, man. I'm fine."

A bewildered look came from Ian's face when I replied; it was obviously an answer he wasn't expecting. "Oh, well, alright then. Anyway, I came into here to tell you something. They were caught. The kidnappers? Every single one of them." A happy smile grew across his face. "We're alright, Anthony. We won."

"That's great, Ian. That's...great." I couldn't think about anything else except that dream. Everything was so vivid, so real. And it all made sense. Nothing was too nonsensical, it all seemed logical. _I wonder..._

"Anthony, are you sure you're okay?"

I realized I still had a stupid looking grin and mystified look on my face. But I was in no mood to hide it. Looking straight into Ian's eyes, I replied, "Yes, Ian. I'm fine. I really, truly am."

A big and familiar whisp of air flew through the room, blowing both mine and Ian's hair back. "Wow," Ian remarked, examining the window. "It doesn't look open. Wonder how it let in a draft."

But it wasn't a draft, and I knew it. It was her, and the dream was more than just a dream. For the first time in weeks, I felt genuinely happy. I escaped the clutches of grief and self-blame. I had closure, and knew everything was really okay. I was amazingly and incredibly free. And I understood, after all this time, that so was she.

* * *

***~ All mentions of Harry Potter, including the pensive, belong to J.K. Rowling (A.K.A., the world's best author)**

**Of course Abby was going to come back into the story, even if it was for a bit! I like cliff hangers, but I wouldn't keep you guys TRULY hanging!**

**Thanks for reading, and following the story! Spending four non-stop hours on the computer after a day long of Color Guard camp is worth every second because of you guys, so thanks again! Keep on Smoshing!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Anthony's Point of View**

**********Eight Years Later**********

"Come on, Anthony!" Kevin begged while I swiped my subway card through the sensor. It beeped back and declined to open. I huffed and looked at him with pleading eyes.

He rolled his eyes and swiped his own card for me. The light turned green and the gate opened. "You really need to get a new card, Ant."

He swiped the card for himself after I crawled through the gate. "I know," I sighed and tossed the card back into my messenger bag. The card landed next to Maggie's tiny ballet shoes. "Anyway," Kevin continued as we proceeded to the 14th Avenue subway. "Anthony, it's the biggest party of the year! It won't be like the last time! We won't go home drunk, I promise!"

I quietly but quickly shushed him so Maggie wouldn't hear. "Shut up! She's only seven, you know."

"Yup!" Maggie chirped, bouncing up and down while holding my hand. "But Daddy, I'm seven and a QUARTER, remember?"

"Of course, I remember, Mag." I leaned down and kissed her hazel hair.

Maggie flounced her tutu that she refused to take off…ever. "Mommy said that NEXT year, we could do a ballet party wouldn't THAT be fun I could invite ALL my dance friends and, oh! The kids I met here in New York at dance today they could come too! Wouldn't THAT be fun, Daddy?!" Not once did she stop to take a breath. I laughed and just nodded.

"Daddy, Daddy!" Maggie tugged at my shirt. "Look! It's Sarah! I met her at dance today! Can I go say 'hi'? Can I, please-please-PLEASE?!" I looked around to see a little girl about Maggie's age waving like Maggie was, but not as hysterically. Next to Sarah was her mother, who glanced down at Sarah and asked who she was waving at. Sarah pointed over our direction. Her mother and I met eyes. She waved politely, keeping a motherly hand on her small daughter's back.

"She seems nice enough," Maggie squealed with excitement and began to sprint towards her friend. "Maggie!" I called at the last minute. She spun around suddenly, almost tripping over herself. I looked at her sternly. "Be. Polite." She huffed but nodded and ran over, her tutu flying around her. "Crazy thing," I joked.

Kevin laughed. "She sure is a ball of energy!" I agreed with a tired sigh. "Maggie got your enthusiasm, didn't she? But she looks more like Kalel than you. Actually, now that I think about it, Maggie doesn't really look like either of you!"

"That MAY be because she was adopted." I informed with a joking smile.

"Really?" Kevin was surprised. "Why did you guys decide to adopt? Why not have your own kids?"

"Well, when Kalel and I married six years ago, we didn't want a baby right away. After about three years, we decided we were ready. It took a very long time for Kalel to get pregnant, but when she did, she miscarried, and the doctor said it wasn't possible for her to get pregnant again.

The next few months were very difficult for the both of us. Eventually, we were both able to move on. We still wanted a child more than anything, so we chose to adopt. After a year or so, we ended up with Little Maggie." I looked over and saw her being herself; talking insistently to Sarah and her mother. I smiled. "Ever since, it's been the happiest four years of my life."

"Well, you know what?" Kevin placed his hand on my shoulder. "I'm glad you're happy. Now, speaking of Kalel, where is she on this little trip?"

"She's at home," I replied. "I rarely get any alone time with Maggie because of my job, and Maggie spends a lot of her time either at school, dance, or home with Kalel. I'm sure Kalel's tired of all the work as a mom, so I took Maggie on this business trip with me to give her a break, but Ian's keeping an eye on her, of course. Maggie also has some friends who moved here a couple weeks ago, so she's been staying with them while I've been at my meetings. Afterwards, we've been able to have some real father-daughter time. Everything's a win-win scenario."

"When are you guys heading home?"

"Tomorrow morning," I replied.

"Right, after you drop Maggie off at Ms. Sarah's right over there, and come to the bar with me and some co-workers! It'll be fun, man! You don't have any more meetings, do you?"

_He just won't drop it, will he? _"Yeah, no more meetings for now, but I've have one more thing to do." I glanced down to my right hand where the yellow flowers were. "It's….the anniversary." I sighed and half-smiled sadly. "Nine years ago, today."

"Is Maggie old enough to, you know, understand?"

"One day she came home from school and told us a word she learned; siblings. She asked Kalel and me if I had any. I told her that I did, but explained that she didn't live HERE anymore, but in Heaven. When Maggie asked if she could meet her, I told her she could in a while. That was about a year ago. I believe now she's old enough to understand." I cleared my throat and checked my watch. 6:29 P.M. "It's getting late. We better get going before the sun sets."

"Alright," Kevin said. I turned away to get Maggie when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Kevin spoke quietly and calmly behind me. "You know what, I'm proud of you, Anthony. You've been through a lot, but you've truly come out on top. You did good, Ant. You did good."

I smiled at Kevin and shook his hand, bidding him a farewell for the day. Walking up to Maggie, her friend, and her mother, I introduced myself. I shook hands with her mom. "Hi, I'm Anthony Padilla, Maggie's dad."

"Joann Miller, Sarah's mother. Nice to meet you. Maggie has told me SO much about you!" She laughed.

"Oh, has she? I can't say I'm surprised; she is quite the talker! And who's this?' I stuck out my hand to Sarah. "Hi, I'm Mr. Padilla, Maggie's daddy." Sarah quickly blushed and hid behind her mom's leg, suddenly shy.

"Oh, that's alright. I'm a pretty intimidating guy." I smiled and took Maggie's hand. "Come on, Mag. You ready to go visit Aunt Abigail?"

Maggie's eyes began to glow with excitement. "Oh, oh! At school, Ms. Turner taught us what people say when talking about someone who passed away." In her most grown-up sounding voice, Maggie recited, "'Abigail Ansley Brooke, May She Rest in Peace!"

Joann and I suppressed laughter, but we were barely able to. "That's right, Ms. Maggie." I bonked her on the nose. "Let's go." I shook hands once again with Joann. "It was nice to meet you, Sarah. Bye-bye." Sarah hunched her shoulders and lowered her head, but I saw a hidden smile in the shy face. Maggie and I walked out the terminal while she talked and talked about Sarah and everything else in the world.

As we emerged onto the streets, the busy life of New York City bustled around 89 Broadway and Rector Street. My stomach twisted just the way it does every eight years I walk this same path. Memories (good and bad) flooded into my head. Forgotten emotions slowly climbed back in. I tried my hardest to hide them, though, for Maggie's sake. "Ready, Mag?"

Maggie held up her yellow daisy she picked herself in her hand. "Ready!"

Trinity Chapel was a beautiful as it was the first day I came. The garden was well-kept and the gate to the churchyard was almost welcoming, despite the gloomy and saddening occasion. Maybe ten or so people dressed in darker colors mimicked Maggie and I; spoke quietly heads slightly lowered, in respect for those who were gone, but not forgotten.

Maggie held onto all the flowers while I placed my hands in my pockets and led her to where Abigail was. My mind must have wandered because it was Maggie that said quietly, "There it is, Daddy."

When I saw the tombstone for the ninth time, I couldn't control my eyes from flooding. I let a tear slide as I replied, "That's right, Maggie. Here it is."

Maggie placed the flowers on the dirt path where other flowers and wreaths laid and stood next to me, her hand still in mine. I read the tombstone aloud to her, pointing with my index finger along the words of the stone.

**Abigail Ansley Brooke**

**Born January 25, 1997**

**Died July 27, 2012**

**In Loving Memory of the New York Academy of Dance,**

**Her friends who loved her so, and her Brother,**

**From whom she stole his heart and his idea of family**

**_Despite the time spent or lost, _**

**_No force can break the invisible_**

**_And invincible bond of siblings._**

"This is Aunt Abby?"

"Yes, baby," I held her close and kissed her head. "She was the best dancer, sister, and person I have ever known."

"I wish I could have met her." Maggie sighed. "She must have been great."

"She was, Maggie. She is. But you will meet her. One day."

"When?" She questioned, looking up with wondering eyes.

I smiled down upon her. I thought about my dream; the experience that changed everything. "When the time is right, you'll know, Maggie. You'll just…know."

Across the rim of the headstone was a faded line where the point shoe ribbons used to be. I'm sure Maggie was confused where the shoes went.

But I wasn't. I knew where they were. I looked up to the sky, passed the clouds and the sun.

_Hi, Abby._

_We're here, my daughter and I, to say hello, and that we love you and think about you every day. And I know you're thinking about us, too. I see you every night when I look up at the stars. The one shining the brightest, I know it's you, smiling down at Kalel, Maggie, and me. Even from there, you are always making sure everything's running smoothly, everything's perfect. Just like your dancing. Just like you. I'm glad you liked those shoes, Abby._

I stroked the ribbon lines with my ring finger. The tip of my finger was warmed from the touch of the stone. The warmth grew and slid gently down to my wrist. I flipped my hand over to see the scar that was etched in my skin. The one scar, caused by a knife cutting across, had not multiplied or been touched after all those years. The warmth squeezed my wrist in a proud and comforting way, then floated away to the sky. The proud touch would return exactly one year from now. I was determined of that.

"Um…Daddy?" Maggie's worried voice broke my day dream. I could tell just by her wary tone it was a stranger.

But when I turned around to face this stranger, it wasn't one at all. I saw a lady around the age of 24. In her black dress with a large matching hat, she was long, tall, and skinny; the same body a dancer would have. When she looked up with shining and watery green eyes, her red hair flying around from the wind, I knew who she was instantaneously. Her description was exactly how I had heard. Exactly how Abigail had said. "Kristi."

Kristi had a surprised look on her sullen face. We never met each other; not at the funeral, not after Abby died. Not when I promised Abby we could go visit her. We'd never met, but if Kristi knew my name, she would know who I was.

_When I tell her who I am, what will happen? What if she blames me for everything? For Abby dying, for taking her away, for making her unhappy? If only Kristi knew Abby was happy in California, with me, with Ian. _

_Does she know? Did Abigail visit Kristi, too? She must have. Abby wouldn't leave HER hanging. Still, how much remorse, regret, and rage could unfold after hidden feelings were uncovered nine years later? _

But there was only one way to find out.

So, I drew a deep breath. "Kristi, we've never met, but I know you, and I'm sure you know me. My name's Anthony. Anthony Padilla. And I'm Abigail's long lost brother."


	19. Author's Note: 'Closure' for All

Papers flew across my room.

_I need that paper! That paper had everything on it! It had the entire last chapter on it!_

The trash was taken out earlier today, and something cold and deep inside of me spoke the truth; I threw it away.

_NO WAY! NO WAY! WHERE IN THE HELL IS IT?!_

I had been writing for five hours straight. Maybe that was why I tore my room apart for one simple piece of paper. After all, the only thing on the paper was the perfect ending sentence to the story; simple yet so important. I wrote it two months ago when I completely changed the plot of the story halfway through.

Wait! Why did you change the plot halfway through?

I HATED this story. It's as simple as that.

That was why the perfect ending was so vital to me. I needed the last sentence (not to mention the last chapter) to be absolutely flawless so I could finalize the fact the story was over. To possible make up the 'disaster' of a story I wrote. When I was writing the final chapter, a feeling so peculiar, so random overcame me that it was almost shocking.

Happiness.

I was actually HAPPY the story was ending.

But again. Why?

I've had the idea of Long Lost in my head for a while now; about the beginning of June, when I finished Without Hannah Here, my other story. I liked the idea at first, but as I began to outline it, the plot slowly began to fade and became unfocused (either that or uninteresting). The little voice inside my head told me to not post this fanfic, or else I would have to suffer through it for two months because I can't leave anything unfinished. For the longest time, I regretted immensely not listening to that little voice. And it wasn't until I listened to the WORDS of the little voice did I realize the real problem.

The little voice said: I don't like this story. It's just…not Without Hannah Here.

For the longest time, I agreed with it. Long Lost wasn't giving me (and the readers, I felt) the same thrill and suspense Without Hannah Here did. I tried everything to change that, specifically completely changing the plot. At one point, I had a revelation that really shocked me and made me hit rock bottom.

My revelation was: Katie, this story sucks.

Two sides of me were constantly at battle. One was the Pessimistic 'this story sucks' side, while the other was the Optimistic side, which didn't show their colors until very recently. One side complained and said, "This story sucks. I don't like this story. It's just…not Without Hannah Here."

The other side spoke up after so long. It said, "Listen to yourself, Pessimistic. You're saying it's not Without Hannah Here. And you know what? That's absolutely true."

The Pessimistic side was appalled. His own words were used against him! "What in God's name do you mean?!"

"You're saying this story, Long Lost, is not Without Hannah Here. And that's the way it should be. If it was, you would be plagiarizing yourself! These are two completely different stories. Just because one type of story was successful, doesn't mean another type won't be as well. And even if one does better, who cares? Now you know what you're good at and what you're not-so-good at. Point is, this story is NOT Without Hannah Here, therefore it won't give you the same feeling when writing it. Whatever feeling it does give you, it should be one that propels you to get to the next chapter, and improve, and finish what you started. So, it's not a thriller with the sex-trade and adventurous rush. But Long Lost is about the true bond between siblings and people in general; how love is always present between two individuals, despite how long their known each other. So love the story for what it is; don't hate it for what it isn't."

Well, that definitely shut the Pessimistic side RIGHT up.

So, I stopped searching for the paper. I cleaned up my room, grabbed the computer, and wrote the last chapter while flying blind. There was no reason to be POSITIVE the last chapter was perfect by a paper. The decisions about the ending I made on the paper may or may not be in Chapter 18 of Long Lost; no one will ever know.

I didn't feel like I had to make the last chapter perfect to make up for the rest of the story anymore.

Long Lost wasn't a disaster. It was just…different, that was all. And, tell me. What's wrong with different?

So, yes, this wasn't Without Hannah Here, first book written by justawaytolive that was intense and crazy. This was Long Lost, a simple story about the craziest thing in the world; love. A very simple love story that maybe (just maybe!) was something better.

Keep Calm, and Smosh Right On.

-Katie


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